


Safe & Sound

by lechaton17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death, Emotional, F/M, Grief, Harry Potter AU, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechaton17/pseuds/lechaton17
Summary: It was Christmas Eve of Hermione's 6th year at Hogwarts when her life was changed forever.Her parents were murdered by Lord Voldemort and his followers, and Hermione was held captive and tortured for several days before being rescued by the Order.Now Hermione is back with Ron and Harry, and must find a way to return to her life after everything was ripped away from her. With the help of Ron, Harry, and the rest of her friends, will she be able to continue on with her life? Or will she forever be stuck in the dark cellar she was held captive in?AU/ takes place during their 6th year.More characters and tags to be added.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! 
> 
> I published a story a few days ago, but decided to go at it a different way. 
> 
> A note of warning, there will be mentions of character deaths, torture, and depression throughout the story. Please do not read if these may trigger you. 
> 
> There's going to be a lot of emotion in this, but that doesn't mean a happy ending isn't in the future. 
> 
> Ill probably cross post this story so if you see it come up on another site, thats why. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you have anything to say!
> 
> ps: I love matching songs to my writing; one song I would recommend listening to with this chapter is Alone Tonight by Digital Daggers <3

_Drip, drip drip._

 

The sound of the faucet was the only sound in the bathroom, and it sounded loud in Hermione’s ears, despite knowing that it wasn’t. 

 

_Drip, drip, drip._

 

She was staring at her naked reflection in the mirror, it being the first time she had looked at her body since she had escaped captivity. 

 

She didn’t recognize herself anymore. 

 

Her skin was white, so much so she almost looked like a ghost. Under her eyes however was dark, making her look ill. Her hair was wild, frazzled, more so than usual. Her lips were dry and cracked. She was much thinner than she ever had been; her bones stuck out obviously, adding to her sickly stature. And then there was the nasty gash of a scar on her stomach, the one that hadn’t yet healed, and according to the healers, never would. She had been stabbed by a powerful blade, a cursed blade, and the mark would be with her forever, much like the scar on Harry’s forehead. Except this mark was uglier, and Hermione remembered every second of it. 

 

She remembered every second of the time she had been held against her will, after the Death Easters had killed her parents and taken her prisoner. She remembered the hours of torture, the darkness, and the silence. 

 

And the _drip, drip, drip_ , of the water in the cellar. 

 

The dripping of her own blood after they buried the dagger into her, and she accepted that she was going to die. 

 

The entire time she had been held in the dark cellar, Hermione had remained hopeful. She had stayed strong against Voldemort. She had refused to cave into him. It was the only thing that kept her going, was the hope that she would make it out of there to see her friends again. 

 

Once that blade entered her stomach, her hope had vanished. After all, she had no sign or way of knowing that anyone knew where she was, or if she was alive. There had been nothing but darkness and pain in that cellar. Her only comfort had come from knowing that at least soon, it would be over. Even if she died, at least she had died protecting Harry in the only way that she could, and that was enough. 

 

But they had come to save her. Barely in time, but there she was. She was alive. 

 

But being alive was proving to be difficult. She almost wished that they hadn’t rescued her. Death would have been easier than living.

 

Living meant that she was haunted every moment by what she had gone through. 

 

Living meant she had to face the death of her parents. 

 

Living meant that she had to try to go back to being Hermione Granger, top of her class, Harry and Ron’s best friend, the bright witch who always had the clear head and knew exactly what to do. 

 

Thats’s what was expected of her, but she wasn’t sure if she was that person anymore. 

 

How could she go back to being that person, after everything she'd been through? She couldn't stand listening to the sound of the sink dripping. Every waking moment of her life since she exited that cellar had been excruciating. She had thought that nothing could be worse, when she lying on the cold ground screaming in pain. She had thought that nothing could ever be as terrible as that.

 

But living with what had happened was even worse than experiencing it.

 

Because now she had to deal with it, confront it, and try to move on from it. And she had no idea how.

 

This was her real hell. Standing in the Weasley's bathroom, looking at her ugly, broken body, trying to find the point in living this life.

 

"Hermione?"

 

Hermione jumped. Ginny was calling her through the door. How long had she been standing there?

 

"Are you okay in there?"

 

"I-I'm fine," Hermione lied, turning on the bath. "Just getting in."

 

"Okay," Ginny replied, sounding unsure. "Just call if you need anything."

 

Hermione didn't respond. After a few moments, she heard Ginny walk away. Hermione sighed, and climbed in the tub, the warm water feeling amazing on her frozen skin. She lay there a few moments, trying to relax, a small part of her brain telling her to sink below the water and never come back up.

 

* * *

 

 

After a quick bath, Hermione climbed out of the tub and quickly got dried and dressed. When she exited the bathroom, her heart began to race unnecessarily, just as it always did when she knew she'd have to face people. Ginny was waiting for her on the stairs. She jumped up when Hermione saw her, looking embarrassed. "Sorry," Ginny said quickly. "I-I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

 

Hermione forced a smile but didn't say anything; she was anything but okay, after all.

 

She followed Ginny to Ginny’s room, where Hermione’s temporary home was. She’d only been released from St. Mungos yesterday evening, after spending almost an entire 24 hours there, the healers doing everything they could for her. It had barely been two days since Hermione had been rescued by the Order. At some moments it felt like a lifetime since she was locked in that cellar, where at other times she’d close her eyes and believe she was still there. She was exhausted more than she could ever put into words. Her mind was exhausted, and her heart was exhausted. They were due back at Hogwarts in a couple days to start the new term, but Hermione wasn’t sure if she would be able to go or not. Everything was just too much. 

 

Hermione climbed into her bed, curling up under the blankets. She had been frozen in her prison the few days she had been there, and one thing she found comfort in was warmth. 

 

If she could be warm again, maybe she could be strong again, too. 

 

“You know,” Ginny said from her own bed, “If you need to…talk or anything, I’m here.”

 

Hermione pulled the blanket more tightly around her. “I know.” Ginny seemed satisfied and didn’t push her. Hermione hadn’t told anyone what had happened in the cellar, except the couple members of the Order who had been in her hospital room. She hadn’t even told Ron or Harry yet, though she knew they both wanted to know. She had barely spoken to them at all. Both boys were shocked by the state of their best friend, and she knew this. Neither of them were sure of what to do or say, afraid to make things worse for her. In some ways, Hermione was grateful for this. After all, she had very clearly given everyone the impression that she needed her space and time to think. But the walls were starting to come down. The hurt was becoming too much. All she had wanted was to see her friends when she was alone and scared. Ron and Harry was all she had left, after all, now that her parents were gone. Hogwarts was all she had left as a home. 

 

Hermione was startled to find tears on her face. She hadn’t cried, not once, since she had emerged from the cellar. She hadn’t had the energy to cry. She hadn’t really let herself feel that deeply. But, they are coming. They were coming on strongly now. She felt her throat constrict as she fought the sobs she knew were trying to escape. 

 

“Hermione?” Ginny said, climbing off her bed. “What-?”

 

“Ron,” was all Hermione was able to say, and that was enough for Ginny. Hermione heard her leave, a just a couple moments later she returned, and Ron was there. 

 

“Hermione,” he said gently, more gently than Hermione had ever heard him speak before, and it only made more tears come as she looked up at him. He looked so sad, so lost, and she could see the longing in his face. He wanted to help her but wasn’t sure how. 

 

And then he was climbing into the bed with her, pulling her close to him, and Hermione buried her head onto his shoulder and cried, for what felt like hours, until exhaustion overtook her. 

 

She dreamed of her parents, and their laughter in the last moments of their life.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny backed out of her room, closing the door to give Ron and Hermione privacy. She felt overcome by emotion herself, tears blurring her vision. Ginny Weasley was not much of a crier, but there were times that she couldn't help it. And watching one of her closest friends hurt so terribly was one of those things that Ginny just could not stand.

 

"Gin?"

 

Ginny whipped around and saw Harry standing there. She relaxed, wiping her eyes.

 

"I wanted to give them a moment," she said, sitting down on the stairs. Harry sat down next to her.

 

"Yeah, me too," he said quietly. "What happened?"

 

Ginny sighed. "I don't know. I don't think anything in particular. I think she's just...." She didn't finish her sentence, but Harry nodded.

 

"Remus didn't really say much," Harry sighed. "I know it's not really his place to do so. But I kind of know. I don't know everything, but...I saw what they were doing."

 

Ginny noticed his fist clench. Her heart broke for him. She knew Harry had been connecting with Voldemort during the time Hermione had been held captive. It was the whole reason they were able to find Hermione in the first place. He had witnessed Hermione's torture through Voldemort's eyes, and had to watch on helplessly. On top of that, Ginny knew Harry blamed himself for everything that had happened. He blamed himself because Hermione was his friend, and Voldemort had used her to get to him.

 

"It isn't fair," Harry said quietly. "Hermione's never hurt anyone. She's never done anything wrong. And neither did her parents."

 

"He's ruthless, Harry," Ginny told him, putting her hand over his fist. "He's a monster who enjoys bringing pain to other people. If not you, or Hermione, then another witch, or wizard, or Muggle. Don't forget that, Harry."

 

Harry looked at his hands, refusing to meet her gaze. The weakness she had felt earlier was gone, and now Ginny found her strength.

 

"Harry, look at me," she said firmly. When he didn't, Ginny placed her hand under his chin and raised his eyes to her own. "This isn't your fault. No matter how you look at it, it isn't your fault. He's the one who killed her parents. He's the one who took Hermione and threw her in that cellar. He's the one who caused her all this pain. Not you, Harry. Hermione loves you. You're one of her best friends, and she trusts you more than anyone. Don't be angry at yourself, Harry. Be angry at him. Besides, Hermione needs you. And you can't be there for her if you’re too focused on your self blame. You don't deserve it. And I can guarantee you Hermione will agree with me."

 

Harry just looked at her for a moment. And the next thing she knew, he was kissing her.

 

* * *

 

Hermione never said one word to Ron the entire time they lay there on her bed, and that was okay. Ron knew that if she wanted to talk, then she would. But she did cry; she cried more tears than Ron knew was even possible. He held her tight the entire time, stroking her hair, letting her get it out. Ron wasn't entirely sure of what Hermione had gone through, but he knew that it was a lot, much more than he could ever imagine. It was clear by the way Hermione fell apart that this was something much bigger than he had ever experienced before. They had been through a lot together over the years, but this was going to be something on a whole different level. He was going to need a be a person he wasn't sure that he could be. He was Ron, the awkward one. He was always just following Harry and Hermione around, doing what they told him to do. But no one was going to be able to tell him what to do this time.

 

Hermione needed him. And he would do whatever he needed to to help her.

 

After a while Hermione drifted off to sleep. He stayed there with her, finding comfort in her presence. He had been terrified the entire time Hermione was missing. He hadn't been able to sleep or eat; any attempt to put food in his stomach ended with him running to the bathroom as it came right back up. He had been a mess. Hermione meant everything to him, after all. He was a fool for not realizing it sooner. He had loved her for years. Every year he loved her more and more. She was smart, she was beautiful, and she was brave. She kept him going when he needed it. And Harry, too. She had done so much for them over the years. He was sure that they wouldn't have made it this far without her.  

 

Hermione had done so much for him, and he was ready to return the favor. He had no idea what the future would hold for them, and he knew it was going to be difficult. But he was doing to try his damnedest to help Hermione through this. 

 

To remind her that she was not alone. 

 

Ron fell asleep with Hermione still in his arms. 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione awoke with a start, her heart racing as she looked wildly around the dark room. Her stomach twinged painfully. She heard Ron grumble beside her, and it took her a moment to realize that she was not alone in that dark cellar, but lying next to Ron in a cramped bed in Ginny’s bedroom. 

 

“Hermione?” Ron said groggily. 

 

Right, she remembered now. Ron had crawled into the bed with her after she broke down. They must have both fallen asleep, and in her dreams, Hermione had returned to her dark prison, alone, cold and frightened. Even in her dreams it felt as real as being there. The searing pain in her abdomen didn’t help anything. 

 

“What is it?” Ron said, now that he was more awake. He sat up, looking concerned. 

 

“Nothing,” Hermione replied, curling up on her side. “They said this would happen.”

 

It was true. The Healers at St. Mungo’s explained to her that the wound on her stomach was not ordinary wound; it was caused by a cursed blade, a blade meant to cause pain and suffering in those who came into contact with it. The healers did the best that they could, but warned her that the mark would never fully heal. It would be painful for some time, and although the pain would lessen as the weeks went by, it would never fully go away. 

 

“Sh-should I get someone? My mum?” Ron asked, looking scared, but Hermione shook her head and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

 

“Just stay,” she said, not wanting him to leave. “It will pass. I just have to wait it out.”

 

Ron looked pale even in the darkened room, but nodded. He flicked on the lamp next to the bed, not letting go of her hand. He then sat back down on the bed, rubbing circles on the top of her hand. Strangely, it was comforting to Hermione, and soon the pain started to ease. 

 

“Thank you,” she said to Ron, her voice barely more than a whisper. “And I’m sorry, for….” 

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Ron said at once. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

 

The tears threatened her again. She hated how weak she had become. She hated everything about the situation she was in. She _was_ sorry. She was sorry her friends had to see her this way. She was sorry she had to put them in this uncomfortable situation of trying to help her. How were they supposed to help her anyway? She felt selfish for even hoping that they could. 

 

“Hermione,” Ron said, his hand on her face. “I’m exactly where I want to be right now. When you were….when you were gone, there was nothing I wanted more than to have you back here by my side. I can’t be without you. I can’t function. I….” He broke off, his ears red. “I just need you here, okay? So don’t be sorry.”

 

Somewhere, deep in her scarred and broken heart, Hermione felt a small flame erupt. Looking into Ron Weasley’s embarrassed face, she felt a small ray of hope. Even when she was broken and ugly and her heart was in a million tiny pieces, Ron was still there. Ron was still there, and as long as he was still there, Hermione wasn’t alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi there everyone! A bit of a filler chapter today, but the next one will be pretty long and important, so I didn’t want to try and squish it all into one chapter. I hope you enjoy nonetheless! The next chapter will be a bit longer as I said, so apologies if it takes a bit longer to be uploaded. 

\------

Hermione watched as the sun slowly rose, spreading a golden light over the Weasley’s garden. Ginny was still asleep, but Hermione had been awake for hours. After Ron had left to his own bed last night and Ginny fell into her bed, asleep in seconds, Hermione closed her eyes only to find herself right back in her dark prison. After that, she’d been unable to fall asleep again, and instead she lay awake and thought about things. She thought about everything. She thought about her parents. She thought about the things that had happened to her down in that cellar. She thought about Hogwarts, and her schoolwork, and wondered where she was supposed to go from here. And she thought about Ron, and how much she wanted him next to her. She felt safer when he was around. 

Unable to lay there with her thoughts anymore, Hermione quietly got out of bed, careful not to wake Ginny. She made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. She really hadn’t eaten much, despite Mrs. Weasley trying to force food on her. But this morning she had a bit of an appetite. She could at least go for some fruit or toast. She was just pulling an apple out of the fruit bowl when Harry entered the room. 

His appearance startled Hermione, making her drop the apple of the floor. She was finding out that she was very easily startled. Harry quickly picked up the apple. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was up,” he said, rinsing it for her in the sink. He handed it back to her, and she took it with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m a bit jumpy, it seems.”

Harry’s face fell a bit, and Hermione couldn’t help but feel guilty. She had barely spoken to or even seen Harry since she was rescued. When she was at St. Mungo’s, they hadn’t allowed her any visitors except for Remus and Arthur, who were only there for a few moments to explain to her what was going on and what had happened. She hadn’t actually gotten to see Ron and Harry until she arrived at the Burrow, but their reunion had been more awkward and tense than anything. Afterwards she had ran to Ginny’s room and hid there, not wanting anyone to talk to her. 

“How…how are you?” Harry asked, unable to look her in the eyes. He instead looked away, out the window. 

It was in that moment that Hermione realized that she really hadn’t been the only person that was hurt by what had happened to her. 

“Harry,” she said, taking a step towards him. At that moment, the cursed wound on her stomach flared, causing her to double over. She felt Harry’s hands on her, and she leaned into him gratefully. 

“I’m okay,” she told him, the pain already leaving her. “It just catches me off guard some times.”

“Here, sit,” he said, leading her to the table. “Can I get you anything? Some water?”

“Ah- sure,” she said, wincing slightly when she sat down. Harry quickly filled a glass for her and handed to her. She drank some, realizing how thirsty she actually was. “Thank you.”

He managed a half smile. “Couldn’t sleep?” 

She shook her head. “You?”

“Not really,” he admitted, and Hermione realized how tired he looked. Hermione suddenly remembered Remus telling her that Harry had connected with Voldemort on several occasions while he’d been torturing her. Part of her felt almost embarrassed that Harry had seen her that way. Another part of her felt incredibly sad for him. She can only imagine how hard and frustrating it had been for him. 

And he had also helped to save her life. She had been barely hanging on when the Order had arrived and broken her free. The Healers had said if they’d been only an hour later, she’d have probably died. 

“Harry,” she said, and he didn’t look away from her this time. But she found her words failed her. She wasn’t sure exactly of what to say. She didn’t feel right thanking him, not knowing that he had to go through what he did. She could see the pain in his eyes. Harry had gone through so much, over and over, and yet there he was. He never ran away, or gave up. He was still right there. 

She felt the tears coming again. 

“Hermione I’m sorry,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this, and your parents-”

Her heart surged at the mention of her parents, making the tears run down her face. She thought of their blank faces, and tried to push the thought out of her mind. 

“I don’t want people to keep dying because of me,” Harry said, his voice very quiet. He looked at his hands. “If Voldemort had killed you-”

“Harry,” she said, her voice not as strong as she had hoped. “Please. You can be angry. You can be angry at him, or the Death Eaters, or me for all I care, but please, don’t be angry at yourself. I know what happened, Harry. I looked into his eyes. It was not because of you that…that this happened. It’s not your fault. And I’m not going to say that again, so please just throw the thought away.”

God, she didn’t want to cry anymore. She didn’t want this all-consuming pain. It made her feel as if she was being crushed by a terrible weight. She couldn’t breathe, it was so strong. Her grief was like a physical being; like a snake that was contracting her, pulling her tighter and tighter until she would suffocate in it. 

And she could never, ever blame Harry for that. 

Harry pulled her into a hug, and she didn’t fight him. “It’s going to be okay, Hermione,” he said. “You’re going to be okay. I’m sorry. I know that you’re right. It’s his fault. It’s his fault, and I’ll make sure that he pays for everything that he’s done.”

His words frightened her, but at the same time, brought her some strange comfort. 

After moment they broke apart. Hermione wiped her face. Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She looked at him and nodded. 

Sometimes, you knew someone well enough that you didn’t need words. Harry was letting her know that he was there for her. 

Soon the rest of the house was waking up. Mrs. Weasley was ecstatic to hear that Hermione was willing to eat, and made her way more food than she could have ever imagined eating. Harry stayed next to her, and soon Ron sat on her other side. Ginny sat across from them, and Mr. Weasley came in, going on and on about work. The Twins came through, laughing about something that had happened at their shop. Hermione was thankful to know that some sort of normalcy still existed. Ron and Harry were still there beside her. She was pretty sure that was the only thing keeping her going at this point. 

After breakfast, everyone started to go about their day, but Hermione, Ron and Harry stayed seated at the table. The sun was coming through the window. Hermione longed for the feel of it. Unfortunately, even though the sun was out, it was still December. Even in the house Hermione felt like she could never get warm enough. She shivered and pulled her sweater more tightly around her. Ron’s hand found hers and he squeezed it. His hands were warm. He even smiled at her. Ron Weasley could be sweet. Much more so than she would have imagined. 

There was an awkward silence between the three of them. Hermione came to a realization that in order for them to try and move forward, they would all need to talk about what happened. Together. 

“Ron, “ Hermione said, squeezing his hand back. “Can we…can we go up to your room? All of us,” she added, pointedly looking at Harry. “I want…I want us to talk about it.”

Ron looked across her at Harry, and then back to her. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

She wasn’t sure if she was ready at all, but she wasn’t sure if she would ever be ready. 

“I think so,” she told him, and that was good enough. The three of them made their way upstairs, Hermione’s heart hammering as she tried to ready herself for the conversation she was about to have.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there are mentions of torture/blood in this chapter. 
> 
> I wanted to keep writing, but I guess thats what more chapters are for xD

Hermione sat down on the floor, Ron and Harry sitting next to her on either side. It was like they were having some kid story time, except the story she was about to tell them wouldn't be a nice one.

 

Ron grabbed her hand, and she smiled at him thankfully. She was terrified to speak the truth of what happened. But at the same time, she wanted to. Because then she could admit it had happened. Ron and Harry would be able to understand things better. They would only be able to move forward from there. At least, that's what she was hoping for.

 

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "As you know, it was Christmas Eve....."

 

....

 

The house smelled amazing. Hermione and her parents had been preparing their Christmas Eve dinner all day, and everything was just about ready. Christmas carols blared from the radio, the house was overly decorated, and they had all been in a ridiculously cheerful mood. But Hermione loved every moment of it. Things were barely cheerful anymore. It was nice to have these moments, where they could escape from reality for just a little bit.

 

Hermione and her mother just finished setting the table, using her Grandmother's china that they always saved for Christmas Dinner. Candles were lit, light snow was falling outside, and everything was just about as perfect as any Christmas Eve could get.

 

"Almost done, dear?" Hermione's mother called out.

 

Her father, who was in the kitchen, called back, "I'm going to start bringing the dishes out!"

 

Hermione was starving and ready for some amazing cooking. Her parents always made the best food. Even the Hogwarts feasts did not compare for her.

 

That's when it happened.

 

Hermione never heard them enter. But there, all of a sudden, was Antonin Dolohov. Hermione barely had the chance to register that he was there, standing in her home, when a flash of green light sent her mother crumpling to the ground next to her.

 

In moments like this, Hermione had liked to think of herself as the quick to act one. She should have immediately pulled out her wand. She should have immediately reacted. But the truth was that she was so incredibly shocked, her mother's face completely blank and empty, that she couldn't even make a sound.

 

"Here it is!" And then her father, completely unaware, twirled into the room, a great ham in his hands. Hermione knew that he too would die. She wanted to warn him, do something, but before she could find her voice, her wand, or her mind, another flash of light sent her father down, the beautiful dinner they had made together falling all over the floor.

 

Both of her parents were dead.

 

Dolohov laughed. So did another masked Death Eater Hermione hadn't even noticed.

 

Her parents were dead.

 

Before it could sink in, before she would let herself feel anything, Hermione shoved the thought from her head.

 

Her parents were dead, but she wasn't. Not yet.

 

She found her wand, and a fight broke out.

 

She fired every curse that could come to her mind, while trying to dodge their retaliations. The Christmas Carols on the radio couldn't be heard over the sounds of Hermione's house being destroyed. The beautiful china was broken to tiny pieces, the candles knocked over, setting the table ablaze. Hermione tripped over her own mother's body. Everything was being torn down in front of her eyes.

 

And then, everything was black.

 

The next thing Hermione knew, she was lying flat on her back. She was cold; the hard, stone floor beneath her felt like ice. She tried to look around to see where she was, but wherever she was had absolutely no light. For a moment, she was confused. How on earth had she ended up here, wherever she was?

 

And then she remembered.

 

Automatically she searched for her wand, but of course it was gone. She quickly climbed to her feet, turning in all directions, but still she couldn't see anything. Instead she stopped and tried to listen as hard as she could.

 

Drip, drip, drip.

 

There was water leaking somewhere. After a couple minutes, she heard footsteps above her head.

 

Okay, so she was in a building of some kind. She must be in the cellar of the building. Some sort of hideout for the Death Eaters. Walking carefully, she held her hands out in front of her until she found a wall. The walls were cold and rough. She followed the wall around the length of a room. Eventually she came to a door, which was of course locked. The entire room was quite small, maybe the size of her bedroom at home.

 

At home, with her parents.

 

Her parents that had been murdered in front of her.

 

No, no no. She couldn't think about it. There was nothing she could do for them now. For now, all she would be able to do was focus on getting out of there alive. They had taken her without killing her, which meant they needed her for something.

 

She was still alive, and she could not give up. Not yet.

 

Hermione quickly realized that things were looking pretty dismal. She had no sense of time or place in the dark room. She could have been in there minutes or hours, and she had no idea. Her stomach still grumbled with hunger, and no one had came to see her. It was making her feel restless, and helpless, and soon she couldn't help but to yell out, trying to catch someone's attention.

 

She heard footsteps above her. Soon, she could hear the footsteps coming from behind the door she had found. She backed away, wondering if there was any chance that they'd open it and she'd have an opportunity to run. However, when the door did open, she was completely blinded by light, taking away her chance of running. The door quickly shut behind whoever had entered. The room was now lit up; there was nothing to it. The walls were a dull grey, and so was the floor. There were dark stains on both the floor and walls that looked suspiciously like blood.

 

"Miss Granger," a cold voice said, and Hermione turned around and realized that she was face to face with Lord Voldemort.

 

"I don't think we ever formally met," the Dark Lord said, slowly stepping towards her. "But I know you know who I am. And I know who you are."

 

"Why did you do it?" The words bubbled from her lips before she could stop them. "Why did you kill them?"

 

Voldemort smiled, but it was anything but friendly. "The Muggles? They were just in the way, I suppose. Plus, I wouldn't want them making a scene or anything. It was just easier to kill them."

 

Hermione fists clenched. "No human being should be easy to kill."

 

Voldemort laughed. "I'll kill who I want to get what I need, Miss Granger."

 

"And what is that?"

 

Voldemort studied her. "I have heard you're a clever girl. I would have thought you would have figured it out." He stepped closer to her. They were inches apart. "What I need is Harry Potter, Miss Granger. And I want you to lead me straight to him. Or him, to me."

 

Hermione wasn't prepared; the next second, Voldemort yelled "Crucio!" She was hit with the most agonizing pain she had ever felt. Her knees gave out and her vision blurred. She felt as if she was being burned alive. Every part of her body was in pain; she hadn't even known this pain was possible.

 

And then, it stopped.

 

"You are nothing to me," Voldemort whispered to her, as she lay shaking on the ground. "I will make you beg for death, Mudblood. That is, unless, you are willing to help me."

 

"I'd rather die," she managed to say, and said it with as much venom as she could muster.

 

Anger flashed across Voldemort’s face. “You say that now, but just you wait. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

 

He hit her with the curse again, and Hermione again thought of her parents, dead on the floor. She thought of Ron, and Harry, and how she hadn’t been able to say goodbye to them. There was so many things she still wanted to say, and to do. 

 

She didn’t want to die. 

 

…

 

Time really began to have no beginning and end. Voldemort, or Dolohov, or Yaxley, or some other Death Eater would come in, question her, and when she refused, they would use the Cruciatus Curse. Again, and again. Soon Hermione didn’t even bother standing up or trying to get out. She just didn’t have the energy anymore. But still she held strong, refusing to ever cave in to Voldemort. She meant what she said when she said she would rather die than help him. And it was starting to look like that would be exactly what would happen. 

 

She may have been in there for hours, or days, Hermione wasn’t sure. She hadn’t been given any food or water. All she knew was that darkened room, the drip of the water leak, and the pain. 

 

And of course, her memories. 

 

Lying in that room gave Hermione a lot of time to think. She thought about her parents a lot, and her childhood. Despite what had happened, she knew her parents had lived a happy life. And in the end, their deaths had been quick. And moments before, they had ben happy. That was one thing that Hermione could be grateful for. She would have never wanted her parents to have suffered. 

 

She thought about others, as well. Mostly, a certain redheaded boy kept coming to her mind. The way that he smiled. The way he turned red when he was embarrassed. The way he could eat a ridiculous amount of food. She longed for him; the feel of his hand in hers, the sound of his voice, even his smell. She would give anything to see him one last time. And Harry…Harry had just lost Sirius, he had already been through so much. What would they do when they found out? Would they try to avenge her? She hoped not. She at least hoped that they were smart about things. She couldn’t bear thinking about Harry or Ron being in her position. No one should have to go through hell like this. 

 

After countless hours, and rounds of Cruciatus, the door to Hermione’s prison opened yet again. Voldemort strolled in, smirking at her pitiful appearance. It took Hermione a moment to realize that for once, he didn’t have his wand in hand. Instead he held a small, silver dagger. 

 

Hermione knew she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. If anything, she was tired. 

 

“Miss Granger,” Voldemort said, standing right next to her and looking down at her. “We’ve really gotten no where with this. It seems that you really don’t want to talk, and it seems no one is coming for you, either. I’d hate for all this to be a waste, so I’ve come to give you one last chance.”

 

He held up the blade. “You see this, here? This isn’t any ordinary knife. It’s actually very, very powerful. I’ve used it many times, and it’s never lost it’s touch. You see, Miss Granger, this blade is a cursed blade. Not only can it cut you, but it can kill you with even just a small cut. Very painful, from what I’ve heard. It’s like an unstoppable Cruciatus Curse. So not only will you bleed out and die, you will die slowly, and painfully.”

 

He lifted his hand, and Hermione felt her body lift off the ground and be thrown into the wall behind her. 

 

“This is it, Miss Granger,” Voldemort said, advancing on her. “If you can lead me to Harry Potter, I will save you from this terrible death. It is all up to you.”

 

He stopped inches from her. Even with her death right in front of her, Hermione wasn’t afraid. 

 

After all, if her death would help keep Harry safe a bit longer, then it was worth it. 

 

She hoped Ron knew she loved him. 

 

“I’ll see you in hell, then,” she said to Voldemort, managing a smile. 

 

Voldemort roared in anger, and swung the dagger right into Hermione’s stomach. 

 

The pain was instant. He pulled the blade out and she fell to the ground, blood pouring over her hands as she desperately tried to fight back her screams. It was pain even worse than the Cruciatus Curse. She felt like she was being torn into pieces. She wasn’t aware of anything anymore; not Voldemort, or the cellar, or her memories. She only knew the pain, and wished for death to take her. 

 

…..

 

“There’s nothing, after that,” Hermione finished, suddenly aware her cheeks were wet and her hands were over her stomach. “I don’t remember anything except for waking up at St. Mungo’s.” She looked up at Harry and Ron, realizing she’d been afraid to look at them. Harry looked almost ill, and Ron was crying. 

 

He was _crying_. 

 

“I-I’m sorry,” she said quickly, realizing that maybe she shouldn’t have told them, after all. “I didn’t mean-”

 

And then Ron was on her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. Hermione was surprised for a moment, but quickly gave in to him and buried her face onto his shoulder. He felt so warm, and he smelled good, and she felt like she was _safe_. 

 

“I’m never letting you go again,” Ron whispered to her, and she nodded, unable to respond without being a sobbing mess. Harry made his way into their hug, and they all just say there, hugging each other. 

 

This was what Hermione had been willing to die for. 

 

And she hoped that she would never have to be separated from them again. 

 

She wasn’t sure that she would be able to survive it if she could. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another longer chapter; I feel like that chapters might be a bit longer from here on out ^^
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love hearing from you all. <3

The air was cold but refreshing. The sun was high in the sky, making the snow sparkle. Ron would have thought it was beautiful, but he was too busy feeling like his head was going to explode. He was, after all, feeling a millions strong emotions at once, and wasn’t quite sure what to do about any of them. 

He had known that Hermione had went through something terrible. After all, her parents were killed and she nearly died after being held by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Ron had already known all of this. But to hear Hermione say it all in her own words, to see the look on her face and the way her hands shook made everything different. It made everything worse. Her parents weren’t just murdered, they were killed right in front of her eyes on what was supposed to be a joyous occasion. She wasn’t just held captive but tortured over and over, in a small dark cold room, believing she was going to die. And even after all that, she had still held on to her love for him, and for Harry, and had protected what she loved. 

Hermione Granger was an amazing witch, an amazing friend, and an amazing person. 

What had happened to her was unforgivable, and wrong, and disgusting, and every foul and awful word Ron could think of. 

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. If Ron ever came face to face with Lord Voldemort, he would gladly kill him with his own bare hands. 

Ron had never wished death on someone, but now, there was no doubt in his mind. He wished death upon every person who had brought Hermione this pain. 

He kicked a rock in anger, and it just made his toe hurt. Ron cursed and jumped around on one foot, feeling like a fool. He had promised Hermione as he held onto her in his bedroom that he would be there for her, protect her and make her feel safe again. 

But Ron Weasley wasn’t that person. He wasn’t great, or gifted, and strong. He was just Ron. He wasn’t, say, Harry Potter, after all. 

Ron groaned and sat down on the garden bench, not caring that it was frozen. Hermione deserved someone better than him. 

“Ron?”

Ron jumped and realized Harry was standing there, watching him. He felt his ears burn, wondering if Harry had seen him hopping around like an idiot.

“It’s cold,” Harry stated. 

“I wanted fresh air,” Ron replied. 

Harry nodded, swinging his foot in the snow. “Are you okay?” he asked without looking at him. 

“I’m fine, great,” Ron said, crossing his arms. 

“You’re angry,” Harry said, stating it rather than asking. 

“Of course I’m angry!” Ron snapped. “You heard what those people did to her!”

Ron noticed Harry’s fists clench, though his voice stayed calm. “I did. I’m not saying that you’re wrong to be angry. Trust me, I am as well. I’m just trying to get you to talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Ron replied, though his anger was draining. It wasn’t Harry he was mad at, after all. “I just…I just feel so helpless. I can’t stand seeing her hurt like this and I can’t do anything about it!”

Harry walked over and sat next to him on the bench. “I don’t think that’s true,” he replied. “I think you’re doing more for her than you realize. I can see it in her, when she’s with you. I think you make her feel safe.”

The words gripped Ron’s heart in a way he couldn’t explain. “D’you really think so?”

“I do,” Harry said. “You know Hermione thinks very highly of you.”

Ron snorted, but again the words warmed him. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “And I know you feel the same way about her.”

“Well, I-I-” Ron stood up. “I mean, of course I like Hermione- I mean-”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Harry said with a grin. His grin faltered a bit. “Look, Ron. Dumbledore and I, we’re figuring this out. With…you know,” Harry said, looking around as if afraid someone would hear. “I’m not going to let him get away with this.”

Ron nodded. “And I’ll help you in any way I can, if you need me too.” He looked back at the house. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Harry stood up. “I think as long as we show her we are here for her, that she will be. I know you guys have always been there for me when I needed you, and without that I don’t think I would have made it this far. It might not be easy. What she went through….” Harry shook his head. “But we’re here.” Harry put his hand on Ron’s shoulder. a bit awkwardly, sure, but Ron appreciated it all the same. 

“I hope you’re right,” Ron said, and he meant it. After all, some people never recovered from things like this. And he loved Hermione too much to think about it. 

….

Ron had gone up to check on Hermione, who had fallen asleep earlier after she had told them everything. Despite what he had said to Ron, Harry was a bit worried about her. Hearing what had happened, and seeing the bits and pieces of in his mind, Harry was incredibly shaken. Even with the things Harry himself had seen, he felt like it couldn’t come close to the pain Hermione must be feeling. On top of that, she still looked very unwell. She looked so tired, and so fragile. So much very unlike his best friend. He was incredibly proud of her for having the strength to tell them what had happened. At least that was a sign that she was still in there, fighting. 

“Harry.” 

Ginny came and sat down next to him on the couch. He had been barely aware of anything around him, staring into the flames in the fireplace. “Worried about Hermione?”

Ginny knew how to read him without him even speaking. He nodded, forcing himself to look away from the flames and bring himself out of his own head. “How is she?” Ginny asked. “I haven’t really seen her today except for at breakfast, but I’m glad she’s at least starting to eat again.”

“Yeah, me too,” Harry said, having an urge to grab Ginny’s hand. “She…she told us, today. What happened.”

Ginny’s eyes were wide. “She did?” Ginny did grab his hand then, as if she knew he needed it. “I- I can imagine that was hard. For all of you.”

Harry nodded. “It was…it was really rough. It amazing that she even had the strength to tell us. But I think it’s good, as well. I think it helped her to talk about it, even if it was painful.”

Ginny put her head on his shoulder. Her warmth was comforting. “I hate that this happened.”

“Me too,” Harry said, intertwining his fingers with hers. “If I could take it all away from her, I would. In a second.”

“I know you would,” Ginny said. “Because you’re a good person, Harry. Hermione’s lucky to have a friend like you. I think between you and that brother of mine, she has a very good support system. And I’ll be there for her as well, when she’s ready. We all love her very much. We just have to keep reminding her that she isn’t alone.”

Harry nodded. They fell into silence, sitting there together on the couch. Harry started to think about the other night, when he had kissed her on the stairs. They hadn’t really talked about what it had meant. Harry knew it had meant a lot to him, even if it hadn’t come out of the best situation. Harry wasn’t sure how Ginny felt about him. He knew exactly how he felt about her. Her hand fit in his perfectly, after all. She was his rock. Her passion, her strength, her beauty, her kindness…he loved everything about her. 

All that was left was for him to tell her this. 

“Ginny,” he said, but the next moment, they were interrupted by Molly Weasley, clearing her throat loudly. Both Harry and Ginny jumped, quickly moving away from one another at the sight of Ginny’s mother. 

Molly had a little smile on her face but chose not to comment. “Sorry to startle you,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if Hermione was down here with you.”

“She’s upstairs with Ron,” Harry said, his face warm. 

“Would you mind going up and seeing if she’s okay with a visitor?” Molly asked. 

“A visitor?” Harry asked, but before he got to ask who it was, someone much taller than Molly appeared behind her, bright blue eyes shining behind half-moon spectacles. 

“Hello, Harry,” Albus Dumbledore said, nodding to him. “And Miss Weasley.”

“Professor!” Harry exclaimed, surprised. 

“Forgive me for intruding on what I know has been a difficult time,” Dumbledore replied, looking solemn. “But if Miss Granger is willing, I’d like to speak with her.”

“Of course,” Harry said quickly. “I’ll go check.”

“Take your time,” Dumbledore said, settling in on the couch as Molly fussed about making tea and Ginny jumped up to help her.

….

Hermione woke up, her head buried into Ron’s pillow. She blinked, confused, forgetting how she had ended up wrapped snugly on Ron’s bed. And then she noticed Ron, sitting on the floor beside the bed, his arms around his knees, apparently lost in deep thought. That’s right; she had told them about the cellar and everything that had happened. She had been emotionally exhausted afterwards, and must have fallen asleep as Ron had been comforting her. The memory of it made her heart flutter a bit. 

“Ron,” she said, making him jump. He smiled when he noticed she was awake. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Not long, he replied. “I went outside for a bit. I just came back up to check on you, but didn’t want to wake you.”

“How long was I asleep?” she yawned. 

“Not long, only an hour or so,” he said. “You can go back to sleep, if you need to. I’ll be right here.”

Going back to sleep seemed like a marvelous idea, as she was both mentally and physically exhausted, and that hour of sleep she had gotten had been dreamless. However, Harry took that moment to come into the room, with other ideas. 

“Hey!” he said, smiling. “You’re awake. I’m glad. Someone’s here to see you, if you feel up to it.”

“Who?” Hermione asked curiously. 

“Dumbledore,” Harry replied. 

Hermione shot up, wincing at the sharp pain in her stomach. Dumbledore was here? He wanted to talk to her now? She was a complete mess. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Harry said quickly. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

But it was Dumbledore. Dumbledore usually didn’t make a habit of dropping into his students’ homes to talk to them over break. She looked at Ron, but he looked as surprised as she felt. 

“I’m sure it’s important if he’s here,” Hermione said, swinging her feet over the side of the bed. She tried to pat down her hair, hoping she didn’t look too awful. Harry led the way out, Ron following behind Hermione. Albus Dumbledore was indeed sitting next to the fire sipping tea, looking oddly out of place in the Weasley’s drawing room. 

Hermione noticed something flash in Dumbledore’s eyes when he saw her, but he smiled warmly all the same. “Miss Granger,” he said, bowing her head. “And Mr. Weasley. I’m sorry to be a bother to you, but I was hoping that we could have a quick chat, Miss Granger.”

“Sure,” Hermione said nervously. 

Ron squeezed her hand quickly and said, “We’ll wait in the kitchen,” before following Harry out of the room. 

“Please, sit,” Dumbledore said, making room on the couch for her. Hermione obeyed, hoping he didn’t notice her wince when she sat down. “I’m happy to see you up and about.”

Hermione just smiled, unsure of what to say. Dumbledore sighed, and she could see sadness in his eyes. 

“Miss Granger,” he said, “I’m so very sorry for everything that has happened. What happened with your parents, and what followed in that cellar…no one should have to experience what you have gone through.”

Again, words failed her. She just nodded, appreciating his words. 

“I know that you have a lot that you have to deal with right now,” Dumbledore continued. “You must have a million things on your mind. I thank you for even giving me this time to speak with you. I know everything must feel incredibly difficult for you right now. You see, that is why I am here. This coming week will start a new term at Hogwarts. I wanted to speak with you personally and see whether or not you wish to return for the next term.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, her heart racing. “You…you mean I could come back?”

“Of course you could,” Dumbledore said. “Hogwarts will always have a place for you. If what you wish is to return next week, then that is what you will do. However, I don’t want you to feel that you have to do something that you are not ready for. I would understand completely if you need to take some time off. I’m sure your professors would even be willing to send you your school work if you were worried about falling behind. I have already spoken to Arthur and Molly, and they agreed that you could stay here as long as you needed.”

It warmed her that the Weasleys were so generous, and that Dumbledore was as well, willing to work anything out with her to make things as easy as possible. But it was hard for her to know what the right choice was to make when her life had been so wrong. 

“To be honest with you Professor, I don’t know,” Hermione told him. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sit in a classroom and take tests and continue as if nothing had happened. I don’t know how Ill feel being back around my classmates and teachers. But…but at the same time, I don’t think I could sit here either, especially with Ron and Harry at school. And I would feel like a burden on Molly and Arthur, as generous as they have been already.” Hermione wrung her hands, feeling the urge to cry. “What…what do you think it the right thing?”

He smiled sadly at her. “I wish I could tell you, my dear, but I cannot. All I can tell you is to trust your own instincts. If you do choose to return to Hogwarts, I promise that we will do everything we can to help make things as bearable as possible for you. And Miss Granger,” he added, bending in close to her. “Know that it is okay to not be okay. You have an amazing amount of strength for someone so young. You are no doubt going to make an amazing witch. You’ve shown that from your first year at Hogwarts. But it’s okay to feel hurt. It’s okay to be sad, or angry.”

She nodded, feeling the tears building up in her eyes. “All that I know is that I need to be with Ron and Harry,” she told Dumbledore truthfully. “They are my family. And Hogwarts is the only home I have left.”

“Alright then,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “That settles it. I will let your professors know that you are returning and that they need not ready work for you.” He stood up. “Thank you, for taking the time to speak with me. Please know that if any time you change your mind, I will understand. My door is always open to you if you need me, as is your other professors’s. Take these next few days to relax and build up your strength. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Hermione nodded, wiping her face and trying to smile. He patted her shoulder and returned her smile, though she could still she the trouble in his eyes. “Happy New Year, Miss Granger,” he said and with that he left, leaving Hermione feeling a mix of emotions, hoping that she would be able to handle returning to school.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter and the next were written in the same, writing-crazy night where I wrote them both when I got really into it. You know how sometimes you just get really sucked into it? That's what happened to me xD But it was also 2 am and I wrote very quickly so Im worried it may not be as good. I re-read the chapter and it sounded okay to me, minus a couple fixes. However if something doesn't make sense or I missed an error my apologies xD 
> 
>  
> 
> Any who, aside from that, this chapter forward they will be back at Hogwarts! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Hermione Granger had never been so nervous to go to Hogwarts. 

Not even in her first year, when magic was new to her and she knew no one or nothing about what she was getting in to, was she as frightened as she was going back to her second term of her sixth year. 

The night before they were due back, Ron, Harry and Ginny were busy getting all there things together, but Hermione really didn’t have anything. Everything in her home had been destroyed; the Death Eaters had set it ablaze after they left, and there had already been quite a bit of damage before that. Only a skeleton of a house remained; all of her parents’ things, and their photos, and Hermione’s belongings were destroyed. 

Luckily, she still had some of her things back at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t much. At least it was something. 

So while everyone was kept busy getting ready for the new term, Hermione was panicking. 

For one, she wasn’t sure if she couldn’t handle going back. She was okay when she was around Harry, Ron, and Ron’s family. But she wasn’t sure if she could handle being around all of her classmates, with people everywhere, all the time. As far as she knew, no one really knew what had happened. They hadn’t released her name or her parents’ names when the Prophet reported the attacks. She had left the school just days ago a completely different person than she was now. How was she going to handle that?

On top of that, there was the fact that what had happened to her was finally catching up with her. She thought about her parents a lot, watching them die over and over in her mind. She thought of the cellar, the cold, the dark, the pain and uncertainty. It would grab her by the heart randomly. It could be triggered by many things; the smell of breakfast would lead to her thinking of her mother; sudden sounds or movements would frighten her; the cold would make her feel as if she was back on that cold floor; there were just so many things that made living her daily life so damn hard. 

She also did not feel her best physically, though she did her best to hide it. She was constantly exhausted, yet unable to sleep much of the time. She had been eating more, but she still couldn’t stomach much. Her body was easily tired out; just climbing the stairs at the Weasley’s was exhausting for her. And then there was the cursed wound on her stomach that liked to bother her. Sometimes it was nothing but a twinge, where other times she felt like she was being stabbed all over again. It could happen randomly, as well. It didn’t matter what she was doing and would come without warning. She tried her hardest to hide it, knowing that everyone was already worried enough about her. 

And yet, even with all of these things weighing on her, Hermione still believed that she needed to go to Hogwarts. Perhaps she was longing for an escape. Perhaps she was just longing for some normalcy. Perhaps she was just too afraid to be apart from Ron and Harry. Whatever it was, Hermione knew that she had to go. 

But that in no way made it easy. 

That night, it didn’t take long for Ron and Harry and even Ginny to pick up on the fact that Hermione was struggling. However, Hermione wasn’t really able to explain it to them. She was feeling too many things to be able to put it into words. Ron spoke to his mother, and she made Hermione a cup of tea. The tea must have had something added to it, because almost immediately she felt herself start to calm down. By the time the cup was gone, Ron was basically carrying her to bed and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, not waking up until the next morning was Ginny was shaking her, telling her they had to get going. 

Hermione’s nerves came back once she was awake, but by the time they made it to London and were headed for the train back to Hogwarts, she found herself in a trance-like state. She was somehow able to just block everything out around her, maybe even a little too well, as Harry and Ron kept having to help guide her through the station. Mrs. Weasley gave her a big hug as they said goodbye, and told her that she was always welcome in their home. Hermione could see the concern on Mrs. Weasley’s face as they pulled apart, but Hermione just forced a smile and thanked her, and then was led away by Ron to find seats on the train. 

Hermione barely registered anything as Ron held her hand and pulled her through the crowded train. She didn’t look at anyone or speak to anyone. Before she knew it, she was being pushed down into a seat, Harry closing the door of their compartment. She felt dazed, as if she had just woken up. 

“Hey.” Ron put his hand on her face, warm as always. “Look at me.” She did, his looking into his blue eyes. “Just breathe. Everything is okay. You’re doing great.”

Harry sat down across from them. Hermione looked at him, and he smiled at her, though he too looked worried. Hermione did what Ron said and took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking, but she hadn’t realized. 

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I kind of…zoned out, or something.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Harry said quickly. “It’s fine. You got on the train. You made it. You did really well.”

Ron made a noise as if he disagreed. She looked at him, and he looked frustrated. 

“Ron,” Harry said carefully. 

Hermione felt suddenly as if she was being crushed. Ron was annoyed. Of course he was. She couldn’t even function enough to walk without walking into someone. She suddenly felt as if she were a burden to her friends. They had been so caring and kind to her, that she hadn’t stopped to think about how hard this all must be for them. She was fragile these days, after all. It must have to be like walking on thin ice around her. 

She pulled away from Ron, moving as far into the corner as she could. Ron noticed this, of course, and the anger he had moments ago vanished. 

“I’m not upset with you!” he told her quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to seem that way. I’m just…I’m just worried, okay? Im worried about you.”

“I’m worried too,” Hermione said, looking at him. “I’m terrified.”

Ron looked so sad, it hurt to look at him. 

“We’re all worried,” Harry said, stepping in. “And it’s okay to be worried. But we’ll figure it out. Together. We’re going be here for you every step of the way, Hermione.”

Hermione nodded, trying to calm herself with deep breaths. Mrs. Weasley had taught her that it helps, sometimes, just to focus on her breathing if she began to feel overwhelmed. They stayed quiet, Harry watching out the window as scenery passed them. Ron stayed where he was, and kept shooting glances at her. Hermione closed her eyes and did her best to concentrate and keeping calm. Harry was right. She had made it this far. They would figure things out. And she wouldn’t be alone. She had Ron and Harry, and Ginny, and Neville, and Luna and all of her friends and classmates. She must have dozed off, because next thing she knew, Harry was telling her to start getting ready. They were almost at Hogwarts. 

Again Hermione found herself distancing as the train came to a stop. It was as if she’d gotten so frightened that her brain was just shutting off completely. She followed Ron and Harry in her half conscious state, the sounds and sights around her nothing more than a blur. She didn’t stop until they reached the carriages to take them up to the school, when she was faced by what she realized was a thestral. 

Hermione knew of these creatures; she had flown on one last year when they went to the Department of Mysteries. But she had never been able to see one, not until now. Not until she witnessed death first hand. 

Ron looked at her questioningly as she gaped and the great, skeletal horses. But Harry, of course, figured it out right away, as he could see them as well. He put his hand on her shoulder. “They won’t hurt you,” he said, guiding her along. She couldn’t tear her eyes from them. It was like getting punched in the face by reality yet again; she had really seen her parents die just a few days ago. 

“You can see them,” Ron said, finally understanding. He helped her up into the carriage. Harry joined them, and then Ginny, followed by Neville and Luna. 

“Hi!” Neville said cheerfully. 

“Hello,” Harry said, as Hermione ignored them, and Ron did as well. Hermione held his hand tightly, and he squeezed it back.

“Did you have a nice Holiday?” Neville asked, completely unaware. Before Harry could make up an answer, Luna said, “You can see them.”

Hermione finally tore her eyes away from the thestrals and looked at her. Ginny and Neville were watching her too, Neville looking confused. Luna was studying her. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to deny it. She instead looked down, unable to look at them. 

“Wait, what?” Neville said. “Did something happen?”

“Not now, Neville,” Ginny said, kindly yet firmly. It left the carriage in an awkward silence, and they didn’t speak again on the way up to the castle. 

If Hermione was sure of anything by the time she entered the school, it was that she wanted nothing more than to get up to Gryffindor Tower and hide there for as long as possible. She was already exhausted by the day’s events and didn’t want to deal with another person looking at her questioningly. She immediately made her way for the staircase, Ron and Harry following right behind her. Ginny, Neville and Luna hung back, but Hermione paid them no attention. She was feeling the tears coming again, and wanted to be as far away from other people as possible when they eventually overtook her. 

However, they were stopped right before they reached the Fat Lady, by none other than Professor McGonagall, who had apparently been waiting for them. 

“Ah, there you are,” she said as they walked up. As much as Hermione liked and admired Professor McGonagall, she was in no mood to speak with her at the moment. 

“Miss Granger,” McGonagall started, but Hermione turned to her, tears already falling, as said, “Please, Professor. Not tonight.”

McGonagall looked startled, but her face softened. “Very well. Go on ahead. We can speak later. Potter,” she added as the three of them passed. “Can I have a word with you?”

Harry looked torn, but Ron said, “Go ahead,” and taking Hermione’s hand in his, led her into the common room. 

It was still rather quiet, as not all the students had returned yet, and they had beat most of the crowd up from the trains. A few people were there, however, and gave them questioning looks as Ron led Hermione into a quiet corner. 

“Are you okay?” he asked her. Unable to lie, Hermione shook her head. Ron pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, stroking her hair. “You really did well, you know,” he told her as the tears silently slid down her face. “I know this is all a lot, and I can’t imagine how scary everything must feel. But I’m still here. And so is Harry, and Ginny. The other Gryffindors are too, even if they don’t understand.”

Hermione was already feeling calmer. Ron’s presence was enough, sometimes. She nodded and placed her head on his chest. “I know,” she said, sniffing. “I know.”

Soon Harry entered the common room, and spotted them in the corner. He joined them, smiling apologetically. “Sorry about that. Feeling better?”

Hermione managed a smile and nodded. “Good,” Harry said, looking relieved. 

“I think I’m going to go up to my room,” she said, finally pulling away from Ron. “I think I need to be alone for a bit.”

“Okay,” Ron said, though he looked unsure. “Well…you know where we are.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking at them both. “Really.”

Ron looked embarrassed and Harry said, “Of course.” She said goodnight to them and made her way up the staircase to her dormitory. Luckily, it was still empty, as the other girls hadn’t come up yet. Hermione fell back into her bed, finding comfort in it. At least some things remained the same, even when everything around her was different. 

After a few minutes she sat up, digging through her trunk until she found a photo album her mother had given her years ago. She opened it to find the smiling faces of her parents. Their smiles both hurt her and comforted her. She looked at it for hours, even as the other girls came in, chattering and shooting her curious looks. She looked at photos until she fell into an uneasy sleep, hugging the album, her parents’ faces persisting into her dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello guys! Here is the next chapter! Please let me know what you think, even if it's criticism ^__^

Ron couldn't sleep.

He wanted to, because he was tired. Today had been a long day, and he was ready for it to be over. He could hear Harry tossing and turning next to him as well, but they didn't speak. After Hermione had gone to bed, Harry had told Ron McGonagall had asked that they keep a close eye on Hermione and to let her know how Hermione was doing. McGonagall was worried, too.

Ron didn't think that Hermione should have come back to school so soon. He understood why she wanted to, but he still thought it was too quick. It was too much, too fast. He had even told Hermione that he would stay at the Burrow with her if she needed, but Hermione had still refused. She was sure this is what she needed to do. But seeing the way she completely shut herself off today was scary for Ron, scarier than trying to help her when she was sad or scared. It was like she had been a ghost, unable to talk and walk without him guiding her. A part of him was afraid that everything would become too much for her, and that she would shut down permanently. He had heard of witches and wizards doing so before. He couldn't stand the idea of Hermione ending up like that.

However, by the end of the night, despite the tears, Ron could tell that Hermione was coming back around. Their last couple days at the Burrow had been up and down. Some days Hermione was more like herself, when others she would seem scared, or angry, or sad. But she hadn't shut herself off like that, aside from when she was first released from St. Mungo's.

Ron had been so angry when his parents refused to let them visit her in the hospital. Everything had happened so quickly once they realized where Hermione was. Ron still wasn't exactly sure how the Order had found her; Harry had been having visions while Hermione was held. Even though Harry had said he's barely seen a thing, they'd still somehow been able to at least guess at her location. When Harry saw Hermione get stabbed, that was when the Order went in, and Harry and Ron had been forced to stay behind, even though they were desperate and terrified.

At first all they had been told was that things were 'bad'. Later, when his father had finally returned, he said that Hermione was alive but had been hurt badly and needed to stay at the hospital. But he had refused to let them go see her, stating that she needed rest. When they released Hermione and Lupin brought her to the Burrow, Ron had been so excited to see her again.

Until he actually saw her.

She had been so…broken looking. She wouldn't even say a word to them. She acted like they were strangers to her, and it had broken Ron's heart. Until she called for him that next night, he had been afraid that maybe that had lost Hermione, after all.

However, she had definitely improved over the days at the Burrow. But now Ron was uncertain that she would continue to improve. He just couldn't bear the thought of her getting worse. He needed her better. He needed her. He wouldn't be able to feel whole again until he knew that she was going to be okay.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he dreamed of Hermione, screaming his name, blood pouring out of her stomach as she reached for him. But no matter how much he ran, he couldn't reach her. He couldn't save her.

…

The next morning Ron awoke to Harry, telling him that he'd slept in. He definitely didn't feel like he had. He was still tired and his head hurt, but he got up nonetheless. Hermione was already awake and sitting with Ginny in the common room when they left the dormitory. Ginny smiled at them, but his eyes went to Hermione. She looked tired, but okay. She didn't look like a shell of herself, at least.

"Finally you're up," Ginny said, and if Ron had been paying attention, he would have noticed Ginny take Harry's hand briefly. "I was beginning to think you'd be late on the first day back to class."

Hermione noticed him watching her, and she smiled at him, letting him know she was okay. "Did you eat?" he asked her, and she blushed.

"No," Ginny answered for her. "I tried to get her to go with me, but she wanted to wait for you. You guys can probably catch the end of breakfast if you hurry."

"I'm not hungry," Hermione said at once.

"You should try to eat something," Harry said. "The hall won't be as full now. You're going to need it."

And so, the four of them made their way to the Great Hall. Hermione held up very well, though she did refuse to look at anyone except the three of them. Neville tried to talk to them again, but Hermione just stared at her uneaten food. She at least drank some juice, which was better than nothing. Ron was starved and shoved food into his mouth, which at least brought a smile to Hermione's face.

Their first class that day was Transfiguration. Ron was barely able to pay attention as he kept shooting Hermione looks. Hermione watched McGonagall all lesson, but didn't take down notes like she usually did, or raise her hand to answer any questions. Once class was over, Hermione immediately gathered her things and left, Ron and Harry trying to hurry after her.

Unfortunately Hermione's next class was Arithmancy, and since neither Ronn or Harry took the class, Hermione had to go on alone. They at least made sure to walk her to her class, and she still seemed okay when they left her, so Ron hoped for the best.

"I think things are going well, considering," Harry said as they walked the halls together, both of them having a free period.

"Yeah," Ron sighed. "I'll feel better once the day is over."

Harry nodded. "I have a meeting with Dumbledore later."

It seemed like the previous term had been ages ago. "I guess that's a good thing. The more you can find out about You-Know-Who, the sooner we can get rid of him."

"Especially now," Harry replied, leaving them in an awkward silence.

By the time lunch came around, Hermione rejoined them. She looked like she was about to fall over, but she was still holding it together. Ron couldn't help but worry that she was pushing herself too much. Again, she barely at her lunch or looked at anyone. Their classmates were beginning to notice, and were starting to ask if she was okay. Hermione pretended she didn't hear them, however, leaving Harry and Ron to distract them.

The afternoon went much the same. The only time Hermione seemed to brighten up was when they went to visit Hagrid in the afternoon. Hagrid gave her a big hug when they got there, and Hermione seemed almost happy. Hagrid shed some tears but was able to hold himself together for her sake, reminding Hermione that she also had him there if she ever needed anything, as she seemed thankful for it.

The next day was one that they were dreading; they had to face both Snape and Malfoy.

Ron was ready to snap at either of them if they said one wrong thing to Hermione, but strangely, that didn't happen.

Malfoy seemed rather stunned by Hermione's appearance, almost like he was frightened of her. Hermione even looked straight at him, and there was some sort of weird unspoken thing between them. Ron started to wonder if Malfoy's father had taken part in Hermione's torture. He tried to ask Hermione about what that thing with her and Malfoy had been, but she just shrugged, saying she couldn't really understand it either.

Snape also acted rather strangely when he saw Hermione. He stopped and studied her a moment when he entered his class, and then moved on, ignoring all three of them as if they weren't even there. Snape rarely ever was nice enough to ignore them. Harry seemed to be picking up on this as well, and gave Ron a look that meant they would need to discuss it later.

Again, Ron had to wonder if Snape was somehow involved too. Why else would both of them refuse to shoot Hermione down when she was obviously unwell? Ron was grateful that they didn't, but he couldn't help but be suspicious. After all, the Death Eaters and Voldemort had all fled when the order arrived to get Hermione. At least, that's what they had told Ron and Harry. And Hermione didn't remember them rescuing her at all. For all they knew, Snape and Malfoy both could have someone had something to do with what had happened. Normally Harry would be the one to come up with these kinds of theories and Ron would be the one doubting him. But Ron couldn't deny that something was off.

He also really needed to make sure that whoever had hurt Hermione paid for what they did.

Things continued in their awkward state all week. Hermione barely ate or talked to anyone, though she did seem to feel a little bit more comfortable. They basically acted as normally as they possibly could, and that seemed to help Hermione a lot. Ginny would hang out with them when she had the time as well, and Hermione even began to get a bit invested in her school work. Ron had finally let himself start to relax a bit. Things were going as well as they could have hoped. Ron wasn't so sure, if roles were reversed, if he would have been doing as well as Hermione was. Hermione often mentioned that she hated being so weak, but she didn't realize how strong that she actually was.

And then, at the end of the week, they woke up to a dark, cold morning, and constant drizzle outside the windows. And everything went downhill.

Ron knew right away that Hermione has having one of her bad days. She was extremely jumpy when they greeted her in the common room that morning, her eyes wide and hands shaking. It was Saturday, so they were free from classes for the day, thankfully, so they had no where to be. Ron was at least thankful for this; they would have the time to try and help her out of it.

"What is it?" Ron as her, taking her hand in his. Her hands were so cold, as they always seemed to be these days. "Did something happen?"

Hermione shook her head but didn't say anything. Ron looked around at Harry for help, but Harry looked as unsure as he did. They needed to try and talk to her, but Ron knew that she wouldn't talk here, surrounded by others in the Common Room.

"Maybe we could go see Hagrid?" Harry suggested.

Ron thought it seemed like a good idea. Hermione had seemed happy to see Hagrid earlier that week, and it would be somewhere safe where they could talk in privacy.

"What do you think?" Ron asked Hermione. She looked at him with her wide, scared eyes, and merely nodded. Assuming that was the most they would get out of her, they decided to head straight to Hagrid's and skip breakfast, knowing that sitting in the Great Hall would probably be a bad idea when Hermione was so jumpy. Ron put her arm around her and guided her out, shooting others dirty looks when they stared. It wasn't necessarily the nicest day to walk over to Hagrids, but they would deal with it.

However, they never even made it out of the castle.

They were walking down an empty corridor, Ron's arm still around Hermione, when she suddenly stopped, her hands on her stomach. She let out a mangled cry and her knees gave out. Ron caught her and slowly lowered her to the ground. Shit, Ron knew this was bad. Hermione had felt pain on and off since she'd been rescued, and Ron knew she often tried to hide how bad it was. It was obvious that this was a very bad one, possibly one of the worst she'd had.

Scared and unsure of what to do, he looked at Harry, who had knelt down next to them, and said, "Go get someone!"

Harry nodded and immediately ran off. Hermione was shaking, groaning in pain as she curled into a ball. Sweat had broken out on her forehead. Ron wanted to cry, he felt so helpless. "I-it's going to be okay," he told her, his eyes watering. "Harry went to get help, and I'm right here. Just try to breathe, okay? You can squeeze my hand if you want."

Hermione desperately grabbed for him, finding his arm. Ron was startled to find her hand full of blood.

….

After what felt like hours, Professor McGonagall finally came out of the hospital wing. She sighed when she saw Ron and Harry scramble to their feet. She had kicked them out when they brought Hermione in, telling them to let Madam Pomfrey do her job. Ron had been beside himself, waiting impatiently for someone to give them some news.

"She's alright," McGonagall said before either of them could speak. "Madam Pomfrey has able to help her some, but is asking that she stay here for a night or two to rest."

Ron exhaled, feeling dizzy with relief. "Are we allowed to see her?"

McGonagall studied them, and Ron expected her to say no, but she relented. "I suppose so, but please, try to keep her calm. Madam Pomfrey said it was most likely the stress of everything which made her suffer from the attack. That's why she need rest."

Ron and Harry both nodded, and McGonagall sighed, letting them into the room. The hospital wing was empty except for Hermione's bed. Madam Pomfrey looked at them disapprovingly as they entered, but did not stop them. She busied herself, leaving into her office, leaving Ron and Harry alone with Hermione.

Hermione seemed to be asleep as they approached her bed. Ron took her hand, gently, and held it in both of his. She stirred at his touch. She opened her beautiful brown eyes, blinked a couple times, and smiled at him. She looked at Harry as well, who had sat down at the end of her bed and offered him a tired smile as well.

"How're you feeling?" Ron asked, rubbing circles on the top of her hand.

"Okay," she replied. "Tired mostly, and a little sore. I'm sorry if I frightened you. I didn't realize it could get that bad."

"What all did Madam Pomfrey say?" Harry asked.

"She said that my stress levels probably play a factor in how bad it gets," she replied. "I had been pushing myself too hard this week, and hadn't gotten much sleep or food. I thought I was doing okay. I was trying to do okay. But this morning, when I woke up…."

Ron and Harry waited for her to continue. She was looking out the rainy window.

"When I was in the cellar," she said, "I could hear a dripping noise. Like water. It was sometimes the only thing I heard. When I woke up this morning, and I heard the rain…."

She shuddered, causing her to wince. "I don't like the sound. It probably sounds silly-"

"Of course not," Harry said at once. "I…I can understand."

Hermione nodded. She looked at Ron, and he gently brushed her hair out of her face.

"I really am sorry," she said. "I know I need to take better care of myself. I'll try to be better."

"We just want you to be okay," Ron told her. "It's okay if you aren't perfect every day. It's okay if you have a bad day. It's okay if you need to take a day off. You were hurt, Hermione. Even with magic, you need to give yourself time to heal. Especially with that wound on your stomach."

"I know," she said, looking defeated. "I just want things to be normal again, you know?"

"I know," Ron said softly. "But they aren't. So you have to find a new normal."

Hermione nodded. "I guess normal never really existed for us, anyway."

Both Ron and Harry couldn't help but to chuckle. "No," they both agreed.

"Alright, enough chit chat," Madam Pomfrey snapped. "Can't you see the girl needs rest?"

Madam Pomfrey wasn't wrong; Hermione was still very pale and her eyelids were drooping. Harry gave her hand a squeeze and told her to get some sleep, and they would come back later. Ron stood as well. He didn't want to leave Hermione, not after what had happened. But Madam Pomfrey was glaring at him and Harry was already heading toward the door.

"I'll be okay," Hermione assured him, and it made Ron's heart pang. If it were up to him, he'd never leave her side again. But he didn't have a choice as the moment. Before he knew what he was doing, Ron bent down and kissed her. It was soft, and gentle, his lips barely brushing hers, his hand pushing her hair back. He grew warm but held her gaze, her eyes bright.

She smiled, her hand pulled out of his as Madam Pomfrey shooed him away.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to Madam Pomfrey, Hermione was able to have the best nights sleep she'd had in a while. When she woke up the next morning in the hospital wing, Hermione actually felt like she had some proper rest. Her stomach wasn't as sore as it had been last night, and her mind felt a lot clearer. Harry was sitting next to her bed when she woke up, and he smiled brightly when he saw she was awake.

"Good morning," he said. "How're you?"

"Better," she told him as he helped her sit up in bed, making sure she was comfortable. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," he replied. "I made Ron go and get some breakfast. He was here first thing this morning. He said he wasn't hungry by the time I got here, but, I mean it's Ron. Plus his stomach was growling loud enough for me to hear it."

Hermione grinned. "Well, I'm glad that you're looking out for him. Ron without food is a scary combination."

Harry laughed. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he said. "You gave us quite the fright yesterday."

"I know," Hermione said, feeling guilty. "I don't know, Harry. I've just been so mentally exhausted by everything. I'm trying to be the person I'm supposed to be. But it's so hard when every minute, I can feel it sneaking up on me. My parents, and the realization that they are gone. They're gone, my home is gone, everything I've ever known." She shook her head. "And then the next second I'm lying on that floor. I can't even explain the way I felt when I was there." She looked at her hands. "I just hate the way I've become. I don't want to always be worrying you and Ron. I don't want people to realize how messed up I am. So I was trying, so hard, to just go through the motions. Go to class, do my homework, at least be somewhat functional. I knew I wasn't well but I thought if I just fought through it, things would be okay."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "It makes sense," he finally replied. "When you were in that cellar, the only thing you could do was fight. And so now, you're trying to do the same. From the way you described it, you kind of decided to push all your feelings away so you could survive. The problem is, is that you are still doing that. But it isn't healthy, Hermione. You aren't really going to be able to move on from what happened until you let it all catch up with you."

Hermione nodded, knowing he was right. "I can feel it trying to catch up with me. But I'm scared."

"Of course you are," Harry said, taking her hand. "You remember how I was last year, after that night in the graveyard? I wanted to run away from that night, too. And a lot of the time, I took it out on the people I loved. But I was scared. Of course you're scared, Hermione. What you went through…it was a very, very terrible thing. Anyone in their right mind would be scared. But I think if you talk about it, with people you trust, it will help. It can be me, or Ron, or Ginny- anyone you want, as long as you feel safe. And you'll cry, and you'll be angry, and you'll be scared. But if you don't, you'll end up holding it all in forever. And no one can do that. It would destroy you."

Hermione studied him. "When did you get so wise, Harry Potter?"

He smiled sadly. "I guess I'm just speaking from some experience."

They were quiet for a few moments, as Hermione thought over his words, her heart racing at the idea of truly facing what had happened to her. Harry was quiet too, looking out the windows at the sun shining through. At least the awful rain had stopped.

"So are you a Ginny a thing now?" Hermione asked him. Harry was completely caught off guard, his cheeks turning pink. "And don't try to lie about it. You know I've known for a while how you feel about her."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what we are," he told her. "We really haven't had the chance to talk about it."

Hermione realized that she was probably the reason they hadn't had the time. "Well, talk to her. Today. It would make me happy to know that you two are happy."

"And what about you?" he asked her. "And Ron? You think I didn't notice what happened last night?"

It was Hermione's turn to blush. "I guess we haven't really talked about it, either."

"He cares about you, a lot," Harry told her. "Trust me. I don't think I've ever seen Ron care about anything as much as he cares about you."

At that moment, Ron walked into the hospital wing, yawning. When he spotted that Hermione was awake, his face lit up and he hurried to her beside.

"Good morning!" he said, and his genuine happiness lit Hermione's heart. "You're looking a lot better today! Did you sleep well?"

"Best I've slept in a long time," she told him.

"Well, I'm going to go find Ginny," Harry said, very pointedly. "I have to talk to her about something."

Ron looked confused, and Hermione smiled. "Remember what I said," Harry added, giving her a hug. "You can talk to me any time you need."

"Thank you," she told him. He smiled and gave her hand another squeeze. He patted Ron on the back and left, leaving Ron and Hermione alone.

"What did you guys talk about?" Ron asked curiously.

"He basically just told me I need to stop running away," Hermione sighed. "And he's right, of course. But it's a lot easier said than done."

"I wish I could make it easier for you," Ron said sadly.

"But you do," she told him. "If I'm sure of anything, it's that everything is easier when you are here. Even when things are at the worst for me, if you are there, I feel a bit better. A bit safer. And I don't know if I've told you yet, but it means everything to me."

Ron looked surprised, his ears red. "I-I feel the same, really," he said, looking away. "I just feel better when I'm with you."

Hermione heart was racing. "I'm really messed up, Ron," she said, her voice breaking.

"Hey." He put his hand on her face. "You are not messed up. What happened to you, that was messed up. But you are not messed up. You are the most beautiful and strong person I've ever met."

And this time, Hermione kissed him. Except she really kissed him, with all the strength and passion she could muster. She kissed him in a way that stole their breath away. The room and sounds around them disappeared and it was only them, just the two of them. And although Hermione was scared, her heart racing, she also was sure that this was what she needed. She had needed it long before Christmas Eve.

….

Harry went back to the common room, feeling nervous. What exactly was he going to say to Ginny? It wasn't as if he'd had a lot of practice with this sort of thing. His relationship with Cho had been a disaster. Ron and Hermione weren't there to give him advice; Harry wasn't even sure if Ron had any idea about the whole thing. He was just trying to imagine what he was going to say to her when he saw her, when he climbed into the common room and nearly ran into her.

"Harry!" she said, looking relieved. "I was just going to come find you. We're still practicing today, aren't we?"

"Practing?" Harry said.

"Quidditch!" she said, rolling her eyes. "What else would we be practicing?"

"Oh- right," he said. "Yes, of course."

"Are you sure?" she asked, studying him. "Is Hermione alright?"

"Yes, she's fine," he said quickly. "She's feeling better, and Ron is up there with her."

"What are you so flustered about then?" she asked.

He felt his face get warm. "Nothing. I'm fine. Let's get ready for practice."

Harry was glad for once Ron or Hermione hadn't been around; he was acting like a fool. Hermione was right; he just needed to talk to Ginny and get it over with.

Practice went well. Even though the air was cold, the sun was out, and Harry had to admit that being back on the Quidditch pitch brought him a sense of calmness he hadn't felt since Hermione had been taken. The cold air hit his face and filled his lungs, giving him a sense of clarity. It felt good to be back with his team members, and seeing the way Ginny flew around, eyes full of determination, convinced Harry even more he had to talk to her.

After practice, the team was tired, cold, and hungry, but happy nonetheless. After they changed out of their Quidditch robes and started to head back to the castle, Harry pulled Ginny back.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you," he asked her.

Their teammates shot them curious looks but kept walking. If Ginny was surprised or nervous, she didn't show it. That was one of the reasons Harry loved her.

"So," she said as they began to walk again, more slowly, the others already up ahead. "What is it you need to talk about?"

Harry was feeling nervous again. He ran his hands through his hair, making it messier than it already was. "Yeah- right. So...so we haven't really had the chance to talk about-things- you know, with everything going on-and-"

"Breathe, Harry," Ginny said with a grin.

Harry took a deep breath, and they both laughed. "I really like you," he told her.

"I really like you too," she replied, her eyes bright, and Harry leaned in a kissed her, not caring that they were gross from practice or that the wind was freezing. Harry had the girl he loved in his arms, and there was no where he'd rather be.

...

Ron had spent nearly the whole day in the Hospital Wing with Hermione. He'd only left to eat, and had tried to make his meals quick. Neville had stared at him during lunch when Ron hurriedly shoved a couple sandwiches into his mouth. Ron wasn't sure why he was so surprised; it's not like he had never stuffed his face before.

"Is Hermione alright?" Neville asked him, frowning. "I haven't seen her in a while."

Ron swallowed his mouthful of sandwich. He couldn't exactly lie to Neville; everyone was bound to notice Hermione wasn't around sooner or later.

"She's okay," he said. "She's- she's a little sick is all."

Ron could tell Neville was worried, and perhaps a little hurt that no one would tell him anything. But he didn't press Ron any further, and Ron was able to down some pumpkin juice and leave the Great Hall without any more questions.

When he returned to the Hospital Wing after lunch, Hermione was asleep. Madam Pomfrey had told him this was good and not to wake her, for sleep is what she needed. Apparently she had even eaten some lunch, so Ron was a bit relieved.

He took the seat next to her bed, careful to be quiet. Hermione looked peaceful in her sleep. She still looked rather unlike herself. She was a lot thinner than she had been before Christmas, and she had already been pretty thin to begin with. Her eyes seemed to have permanent black circles underneath them. But for once, there were no worry lines in her face. Ron hoped that soon, Hermione would begin to feel like herself again. Ron tried to imagine what it must feel like. He tried to imagine watching his parents die, and then being taken away and tortured. But it was too hard to think about it. He tried to think of things that he could do or say that would help. Perhaps if they went out and did more things together. Maybe if he just tried to get her to talk about things. Standing by hadn't been much of a help to her. He had been too afraid to push her away, and had chose to just let her come to him. But maybe she needed him to come to her. Maybe she just needed someone to help pull her along.

He sat there, lost in his thoughts for a while, until she woke up again. And then they talked. They just talked about unimportant things. They talked about lunch and the weather and their lessons. And they talked about his family, they talked about Harry, they talked about them. Since they were apparently a thing now. They talked about how long they had liked each other, and they laughed about it, and Hermione's laughs were so genuine, Ron easily kissed her again, letting her know that hearing her laugh made him happy.

And then, about an hour before dinner, Harry came in, holding hands with Ginny.

Ron couldn't help but to gape as he watched his sister and best friend walk up to Hermione's bed. Hermione clapped her hands together excitedly. Harry was looking at Ron, his eyes waiting for Ron to do or say something.

Ron was shocked. He was also a little peeved, to be honest, because he had never once heard Harry mention anything about Ginny.

But Ginny looked happy, and Harry gave him a half smile, and Ron just sighed. Of all the people Ginny could have ended up with, he supposed Harry was one of the good ones.

"I see you talked," Hermione said, beaming as Ginny gave her a hug.

"You should have seen how nervous he was," Ginny laughed. "But yes, we talked." Ginny looked at Ron. "Well, Ronald?" she said, crossing her arms.

"Well, what?" he asked. "Hermione's my girlfriend now, so."

Hermione blushed. Harry and Ginny both grinned. "About damn time," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"Are we good?" Harry asked him, looking a bit unsure. Ron finally relaxed, and smiled. "Yeah, we're good."

The four of them stayed there the rest of the night, eating their dinner together after Ginny snuck food up for them. Hermione smiled all night, and Ron started to feel that they would make it through this, after all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I'm a bit behind posting here as compared to on FF.net, so I'm going to be posting 2 chapters today to catch up ^^

Hermione was laying on the cold floor. She heard footsteps approaching, meaning they were coming back for another round. She couldn't even keep track of the number of times they had come down already; everything was blurring together and nothing was staying straight in her head anymore. She kept her eyes closed as the door opened, holding on to all the strength she had left. She would not let Voldemort win. She had to stay strong. She couldn't cave in, no matter how bad things got.

"She isn't dead, right?" a voice said, and Hermione felt a shoe kick her in the side. This voice was different; a females. The opened her eyes and saw Bellatrix Lestrange looking at her. Bellatrix smiled, a cruel, terrible smile when she saw Hermione was awake.

"Ah good," Bellatrix said. "We still get to have some fun, after all. You know the deal then, Mudblood. If you could so kindly, just give us any information on your beloved little friend Potter, then maybe we will spare you. Maybe."

Hermione didn't reply. She simply looked away, her face set in defiance.

"Tut, tut," Bellatrix said. "I supposed you give me no choice. See here, Draco. When someone has something that you need, sometimes you just have to force it out of them. They'll break, eventually. Or they'll die."

Hermione's mind worked. Draco? She barely had time to look behind Bellatrix when the Cruiciatus Curse hit her, causing her to forget Bellatrix and Draco and everything around her.

….

"Hermione! Hey!"

Hermione awoke with a gasp. Her body was trembling, her stomach aching. She was covered in a cold sweat. Her heart raced and she gasped for air as if she had been running. And Ron was above her, looking concerned.

"You were having a bad dream," he told her, pushing her hair out of her face. "You're okay now. You're safe."

Hermione tried to calm herself, realizing he was right. It had been a dream, and she was safe at Hogwarts with Ron next to her.

Except it hadn't been a dream; it had been memory, one that she hadn't remembered until now.

"Draco was there," she realized, out loud. She hadn't remembered Malfoy or Bellatrix ever being there before. She shuddered to think what other things she might start to remember that her mind had let her forget.

Ron grew very still. "What?"

Hermione's heart dropped and she realized she had made a mistake. There were some things that perhaps were better if she kept from Harry and Ron; Draco Malfoy being present at her torturous prison one of them.

Madam Pomfrey rushed over. "What happened?" she asked, taking in Hermione's appearance.

"N-nothing," Hermione told her. "I just had a bad dream."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. She fretted about and then pushed a goblet into Hermione's hand. Hermione drank it, and immediately started to feel calmer. The sun was just coming in through the windows; it was still early. Madam Pomfrey had said she was going to keep Hermione in the hospital until she was satisfied with her progress, so she had spent another night in the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey let them be once she was happy that Hermione had calmed. Ron's eyes were stormy, and it scared Hermione. She had no doubt in her mind that Ron would gladly strangle Malfoy with his own hands if she didn't talk him down.

"Ron," she said, grabbing for his hand. "Please. He- he didn't do anything to me, okay? It was Bellatrix. She was making him watch. He didn't hurt me." At least, she didn't think he did. Unless she was suppressing that memory too.

Ron didn't look convinced. "You should rest," he said, and turned away, heading back out of the hospital wing.

"Ron!" she yelled after him, but he ignored her. The potion Madam Pomfrey had given her made her feel rather sluggish. However, Hermione still tried to get up and follow him. Her legs, however, had different plans; they felt like jelly, and her stomach twinged painfully, and she barely made it a step before her legs gave up and she collapsed on the floor. Great, this was just great. Ron was going to go and try to kill Malfoy, and probably end up getting expelled in the process.

As if by a miracle, Harry took that moment to enter the Hospital Wing. When he realized Hermione was struggling to get up off the floor, he rushed over, putting his arms around her and easily helping her back into bed.

"What happened?" he asked, alarmed. "Where did Ron go? Are you-?"

"Harry, did you see Ron?" she asked, her eyes full of tears.

"No- not since he left-"

"Please," she said, grasping the sleeve of his robes. "You need to find him, right now. He's going to do something stupid."

Harry looked even more alarmed. "What?"

"I- look, I remembered something," she said hurriedly. "I remembered Malfoy being there when I was in the cellar. But he didn't do anything!" she added quickly. "I don't think he wanted to be there at all, but they made him. But I told Ron, and I think Ron's going after him."

Harry hesitated, as if he didn't mind the idea of Ron going after Malfoy.

"Harry!" Hermione scolded him. "Please!"

"Okay, okay!" Harry said, and quickly left as Madam Pomfrey came back out of her office, looking very annoyed.

…..

Ron had never felt this way in his life. He was burning with a hatred, an anger so strong that he couldn't think about anything else except finding Draco Malfoy and causing him as much pain as possible.

Ron had always hated Malfoy. But this was different. This was more than just hatred; he was wanted revenge. He wanted Malfoy to suffer the way that Hermione had. All of Ron's worry, his fear, and his pain he'd experienced the past few weeks were fueling him. He moved along with tunnel vision, not stopping until he found Malfoy, walking along with Crabbe and Goyle on his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Malfoy!" Ron snarled, and Malfoy barely had the time to look around, faintly annoyed, when Ron swung and punched him in the face.

Malfoy fell back on to the floor, holding his nose, which was bleeding. Ron grabbed him by the front of his robes and pushed him against the wall, wishing he could crush him.

"You were there," he said, his voice low. "You were there, you knew where she was the whole time!"

Malfoy's eyes widened when he realized what Ron was talking about. Crabbe and Goyle finally seemed to realize what was going on and pushed Ron off of Malfoy. They advanced on him, but Ron could care less. He held Malfoy's gaze, ready to scramble up and go at him again.

"Ron!" And then Harry was there, looking like he'd run. He quickly pulled Ron to his feet and pushed him away from the others. "This isn't the-"

"What is going on here?" To make things even better, Snape showed up, looking angry. He looked from Malfoy, to Crabbe and Goyle, then to Harry and Ron.

"He attacked Draco!" Goyle said when Malfoy remained silent, pointing at Ron. If Harry hadn't held him back, Ron would have happily lunged at them again.

"Enough!" Snape yelled. "This is unacceptable behavior! Fifty points from Gryffindor, and both of you get detention!" Snape glared and Ron and Harry as he pulled Malfoy to his feet, leading him away. Crabbe and Goyle both cracked their knuckles threateningly, and then followed Snape and Malfoy.

"What on Earth are you doing?" McGonagall was there now, looking livid. "Fighting in the hallway!"

"Don't worry, Snape already punished us," Ron said, disgruntled.

"Follow me," McGonagall said, and Ron and Harry did as they were told and followed her. Ron just noticed they had attracted a little audience, as a group of students had tried to see what was going on. "Move along!" McGonagall barked as they passed, and everyone scattered.

By the time they reached McGonagall's office, Ron's anger was starting to dwindle. The punch had helped, at least.

"Now listen to me, both of you," McGonagall said as they sat opposite of her at her desk. "I know that things have been difficult for you lately. I know that you are looking for someone to blame, or punish, but that does not excuse your behavior."

"He was there!" Ron retorted. "Hermione told me! She remembered this morning!"

"I am aware," McGonagall said, raising her voice a bit. "Really, Weasley, do you think punching Draco Malfoy in the face is going to help anything?"

Ron crossed his arms and looked away.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Like I said, I know things are difficult. You're angry, and you're worried. Miss Granger went through a terrible ordeal. But this is not going to help her, punching kids in the hall and getting yourself thrown in Detention. What do you want, to get expelled? Do you think that would help anything?"

Ron and Harry were silent.

"Try to think before you act," McGonagall said, looking tired. "There's no need to make things harder than they already are." She waved her wand, and food appeared before them. "Eat breakfast in here, since I'm sure you haven't eaten yet. And then get to class. I'll have Miss Granger's work for her at the end of class, and expect you to take it to her."

…

The morning seemed endless to Hermione. First Madam Pomfrey scolded her and told her she was going to ban Harry and Ron from the hospital wing, but Hermione was able to beg her enough that she relented. Neither Harry nor Ron returned after Hermione sent Harry out, so she had no idea what might have happened. She was anxious all morning, thinking of all the terrible things that might have happened. She could only hope Harry had caught Ron before he did anything to Malfoy.

Madam Pomfrey tried to get Hermione to eat breakfast, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to eat. Later, before lunch, Madam Pomfrey came back to change the dressing she had applied to Hermione's stomach. The wound still looked unhealed and irritated. Both the healers at St. Mungo's and Madam Pomfrey had tried to heal the wound, but nothing seemed to work. It had been over two weeks now since Hermione had been stabbed, and she'd hoped it would at least be looking better, but it didn't. The wound still bled from time to time, even. When Hermione had the bad attack the other morning, it had bled so much that it had soaked straight through her shirt. Hermione felt so useless. What if the wound stayed like that the rest of her life? Would she always have to be so careful, always in pain? Always a constant stress and worry to everyone around her?

"Nasty magic," Madam Pomfrey muttered as she patted the wound with some potion that made it sting terribly. "It should never exist in the first place. To create a magic like this…I'm sorry dear, I know it stings," she added. "I wish I could do something more for you, but unfortunately, I just can't." She sighed. "It's quite an injury to have to live with. I suppose as time goes on, you'll just learn to live with it. Hopefully, some day, we'll be more advanced in our healing skills."

"Will it ever get better?" Hermione asked. "Will it always cause so much pain? I mean, I can't always be careful."

"I honestly don't know," Madam Pomfrey answered. "It's possible it will stay the same, and it's possible it may get better. I'm sorry I don't have a better answer for you."

Just then, Harry and Ron entered the Hospital Wing, and Hermione's troubles were forgotten. She had never been so relieved to see the two of them in one piece before.

"Hey!" she said to them. Madam Pomfrey ignored them, continuing her work. Ron and Harry hung back awkwardly, not wanting to get in the way. Until Hermione winced when Madam Pomfrey applied the fresh dressing, and Ron couldn't help but to rush and grab Hermione's hand.

"Alright, you're all good," Madam Pomfrey said. "Even when I release you, you'll need to come back regularly so I can treat it for you, and of course if it gets bad again. I suppose I'll have to give you some limitations as well, just so you don't make it any worse."

Hermione groaned, but Ron said, "That's okay. We'll deal with it."

Madam Pomfrey seemed pleased with that and headed back to her office. Ron sat down on the bed, and Harry sat down in the chair. "So did anything happen?" she asked them, before either boy could try and avoid the subject.

"Nothing bad," Harry said. "Ron did get a punch in before I found him. And Snape showed up, so you know he was more than happy to give us detention and take points away. But that was it."

Hermione sighed deeply. She wasn't happy that Ron had been throwing punches, but she was happy it wasn't worse.

"I'm sorry," Ron mumbled, not looking at her. "I just…I couldn't help it, Hermione. I couldn't think about how he just stood there while you were suffering, even if he didn't do it himself."

For that, Hermione couldn't really blame him. "It's okay," she said. "I'm not saying that I ever want you throwing punches again, but I can understand why you did it. I suppose it's sweet." Ron grinned. "But please, don't worry me like that again."

"I won't," Ron said at once, but Hermione didn't really believe him.

…..

The next day, Madam Pomfrey released Hermione from the hospital wing. Of course, not without stipulations. She wasn't to be doing any heavy lifting or physical activity. She needed to make sure she was eating and sleeping properly, and listened to her body if she needed to slow down. Ron and Harry promised they'd help keep her in check, Ron feeling proud that he'd be able to carry Hermione's books around for her (though when he realized how many books she actually had, he was a little less enthusiastic.) Being free from the hospital meant that Hermione and Ron were actually able to really spend time together, now that they were officially a couple and all. Even if that just meant sitting in the common room together, reading over school work in front of the fire, it was still amazing to Hermione. And that's exactly what they did her first night back. Harry and Ginny were off together, leaving Ron and Hermione alone. They grabbed a sofa to themselves close to the fireplace, and Hermione gratefully put her head on Ron's chest, the warmth of the fire and Ron's arm around her making her feel as safe as she possibly could.

"I feel like I'm falling so behind," Hermione sighed as they looked over their Charms work.

"Even if you fell behind, you'd still be years ahead of me," Ron replied. "You'll be fine."

Hermione supposed it was somewhat true; she had already been pretty ahead in the work anyway, so she did have a bit of room. "You know, you're right," she said, taking the parchment out of Ron's hands and tossing it to the side. "We deserve a night off."

"Really now?" Ron said, raising his eyebrow. "You know, just because you're years ahead of me doesn't mean I'm-"

"Shut up, Ronald," she said, and he laughed. He pulled his arm around her, and she closed her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She soon fell into a dreamless sleep. It was the first night since her attack that she had gone hours without thinking of the cellar or her parents empty's faces. It was the first night she started to feel a bit of peace.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione stared out the window, her mind wandering. She'd been sitting in the library for some time now, hoping she'd be able to focus on her schoolwork. She'd been out of the hospital wing for a week, and so far everything had been okay. Ron and Harry had been wonderful, perhaps a little too wonderful, carrying her books for her and checking up on her often, watching her when she ate and scolding her for staying up too late. She knew it was just their way of looking out for her. She even found it slightly amusing; normally she'd be the one who would be fussing over them. Perhaps they had learned it all from her.

Things with Ron had been wonderful. He was always patient with her, always there to listen or just be there with her when she needed him. She usually didn't even have to say anything. He seemed to notice whenever she was feeling off or sad, and made sure to try and cheer her up when she needed it. Most of the time when she wasn't in class or studying, she was together with Ron, and sometimes Harry and Ginny. They just kind of hung out and relaxed together, and it was nice.

Hermione was starting to learn how to live with her new life. As it had been every since Christmas, some days were easier than others. She found that whenever she was alone with her thoughts for too long, things started to weigh on her. She still really hadn't talked about things with any of her friends, despite what Harry had said about her needing too. Part of the reason was that she felt afraid. Just thinking about speaking some of her thoughts and memories out loud terrified her. Another part of her just didn't want to ruin the way the past week had been. Everyone had seemed to relaxed and happy, and she just wanted things to keep going that way.

One thing Hermione had realized was that it was harder for her to focus now. Before, when she had been in class or when she'd been studying on her own, she was always alert, easily able to spend hours reading or writing. She loved learning, after all. And magic was still so fascinating to her. When she had found out she was a witch, she had wanted to learn everything she possibly could about magic. It had been so amazing and wonderful. She really did enjoy the hours she spent learning about the world around her. But it was harder now. she couldn't focus on anything for more than a few minutes before her thoughts would travel. Sometimes they'd travel back to the cellar. Sometimes they'd travel to her home on Christmas Eve. And other days she'd think about her childhood, and the memories she'd made with her parents.

She'd also started to become more curious about what had happened to her. Even now, she really didn't know much, aside from her own memories. She wondered how she'd been found, and who had went to her home, and where she had been for those dark, cold endless days.

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. Her essay was never going to get done at this pace. She looked back down at her empty parchment, and found herself frustrated. Perhaps she could go talk to Madam Pomfrey about it. Perhaps someone would be so kind as to use a memory charm on her, so she could just forget the whole ordeal ever happened.

Hermione was awoken from her thoughts by Ron, sitting across the table from her. He'd been at Quidditch Practice with Harry and Ginny. His hair was a mess and his face was pink from the cold, but he looked happy.

"How was practice?" Hermione asked him, grateful for the distraction.

"It was great!" Ron said excitedly. "I was worried, since I'd missed the last one, that I'd be off my game. But I did really well! I mean, everyone did really well. Harry even said he'd been worried that I wouldn't be focused, but once I was out there, I just kind of got into it, you know? Ginny couldn't even get anything past me. Okay, well she did once, but...how's homework?"

Hermione giggled at his enthusiasm over practice. "It's...fine," she said, trying to hide her blank essay. Ron's smile faltered a bit, his sixth sense for her distress kicking in as it usually did.

"Hey, I was thinking!" he said, grabbing her hand. "The Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow, and we haven't really had the chance to do anything besides hang out in the common room. If you're up for it, we could go. You know, together."

"Are you asking me on a date, Ronald Weasley?" she asked him, making him turn red.

"Well...yeah, I guess," he said with an awkward grin. "I think we could use a day to ourselves."

Hermione had to agree. "Well then, it's a date."

...

The next day, Ron and Hermione made their way to Hogsmeade together. Things were a little awkward, despite having gone to Hogsmeade together many times before; they'd never been a couple, before, after all. Ginny and Harry were also going, and they had made plans to all meet up together later in the day at the Three Broomsticks. Ron and Hermione hadn't really made any plans for the day, so they pretty much just wandered around aimlessly, looking at different shops. Ron bought Hermione some chocolates at Honeydukes, and the two of them ate them together, sitting on a bench together outside. It was still cold, but the sun was breaking in and out of the clouds, and the fresh air was nice. Hermione really hadn't been outside much at all.

"So," Ron said after they had made their way through most of the chocolate. "How are you? And I mean how are you really?" he added, before she could answer.

Hermione looked out at the people walking by, not really seeing them. "I don't know," she replied. "Okay, I guess." She looked back at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied.

"What happened?" she asked. "I mean, what all do you know? About Christmas Eve?"

Ron took a moment to answer. "Well, my dad woke us up really early on Christmas, to tell us that you'd been taken. He said...your parents were dead, and your house had been destroyed, but you were not there. He found out from someone at work. That same night, Harry had had a dream, but he didn't really understand much of it."

Ron paused moment. "It was really scary. We didn't know where you were or what to do. Harry and I, we wanted to be doing something, to be helping, but my mum and dad wouldn't let us. The Order started to work on finding you. That same day, Harry had another dream, and he saw you in the cellar, and saw You-Know-Who. He...said he was torturing you."

She could see Ron was uncomfortable, and took his hand in hers. "I was...I don't know. I couldn't function. I couldn't sleep or eat or anything. And the Order wouldn't let us help or know anything. Harry kept having dreams, but it didn't seem like it was helping anything. And then, he...he saw you get stabbed with that knife. He told my dad and Remus, who were there at the time, and they both left. From what I know, though I didn't know at the time, the two of them, along with Tonks and Kingsley went after you. They must have guessed at where you were. I don't know, narrowed it down or something. When they got there, everyone fled. I guess they realized Harry wasn't with them and they didn't think it was worth the fight. You were pretty bad when they found you. I heard my dad telling my mum he was sure, th-that you wouldn't make it. But you did."

Hermione felt guilty; Ron was visibly shaken just thinking about it. She placed her hand on his face, and he smiled at her, placing his hand over hers. "I'll forever be grateful that you survived. Despite everything against you, you survived. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you."

"I'm still trying to find my way back," she told him.

"I know," he said. He took her hand and kissed it. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

Her heart warmed as if often did around him. "I'm having trouble concentrating lately," she admitted. "It's hard for me to study or even listen in lessons. It doesn't take much for my mind to wander. And then I'm back there. It's always there, at the edge of my mind."

He nodded. "I could tell, in class, and even when we're studying together. We can talk to someone, tomorrow. Maybe Madam Pomfrey or McGonagall. I'm sure someone will be able to help, or give advice."

She smiled and nodded. Ron leaned in and kissed her; a quick kiss, but it grounded her all the same. 'We should go meet up with Harry and Ginny," he reminded her, and together the made their way to the Three Broomsticks, fingers intertwined.

...

The next day, Ron went with Hermione to talk to Professor McGonagall. Ron could tell Hermione did not like admitting that she was struggling, especially to McGonagall. But McGonagall listened, and was understanding. She told them she'd speak to Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey to see what they could come up with to help her. Later that night after dinner, Professor McGonagall took Hermione to see Madam Pomfrey, who gave her a bottle of some kind of tonic that supposed to help concentration. Hermione seemed unsure about the whole thing, but tried it anyway. However, it seemed to help. She was able to finish her homework that night, writing an essay much longer than Ron could have managed.

It had been nearly a month since Hermione's attack, and Ron had to admit that things were finally starting to get better. Hermione was opening up more, not just to him or Harry, but she even had opened up to Luna and Neville one day as they all hung out in between class. She no longer avoided people when they spoke to her, and even began to participate more in her classes. She'd even begun admitting when she needed help. This was something that she'd only really relied on Ron for. If she was feeling overwhelmed, or sad, or if her pain flared up, she only seemed comfortable admitting it to him. But Ron was okay with this. He realized that meant that she trusted him, and even though he hated to see her struggle, it meant a lot to him that she felt safe enough to come to him for anything.

Ron was beginning to realize small ways that he too, had changed. He thought of Hermione before himself. He made sure to always take things and her feelings into consideration, which was something he hadn't been very good at before. It made him feel different, too. He felt better about himself. Ron had always been a bit hard on himself. He'd always felt like he was second best. He was the youngest of all this brothers, and each of them had something that they were good at, something that they were proud of. Sure he'd been made a prefect, but he knew he was still second choice next to Harry. And it wasn't like he'd been the first in his family to be a prefect, anyway. And then there was Harry, would always seemed to be just a bit better at everything than Ron as well. But with Hermione, he felt different. She didn't make him feel like he was second best. She made him realize that he was more than just the youngest brother, more than just Harry's best friend. He was his own person. And he was the person Hermione had decided to put her trust in.

She brought out a side of himself Ron hadn't even known existed.

...

"Harry birthday!" Hermione said, a big smile on her face as she threw her arms around Ron.

March had come. They'd been back at Hogwarts for two months now. Two months since Hermione's life had been forever changed.

Ron couldn't help but realize how pretty Hermione looked today. Her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and her eyes were bright. She'd gained most of her lost weight back, and she no longer had dark circles under her eyes. And she smiled a lot more lately.

"You're in a good mood," he mused.

"Of course I am," she replied. "It's your birthday, and I have something planned for you."

"Do you?" he said with a grin.

"Come on," she said, and taking his hand, she led him out of the Common Room. The sun was out today, and it had been unseasonably warm lately. Hermione had apparently taken advantage of it, because she led him all the way outside until they were near the Black Lake. There was a soft breeze, and the sun felt warm.

"Here we are," she said, gesturing toward what looked like a picnic for two. "I had to try to think of something you would like a lot; and you know, food was the firs thing I thought of."

Ron laughed. "I can think of one thing I love more," he said, pulling her close and kissing her. She blushed and smiled. They sat down on the blanket and dug into their breakfast by the lake, and Ron couldn't remember having a better birthday. Even if the day had barely started. They ate and laughed, enjoying each others company and the early spring weather. After a while, once they were full and content, they fell quiet. Ron watched Hermione as she looked out at the lake. He saw her get that far away look in her eye, and he knew what it meant.

"Talk to me," he said, taking her hand.

She looked back at him and smiled, though a bit sadly. "I wish I could take you home," she said. "To my parents. I know you met them before, but you know, you never really got to talk to them. Especially not as my boyfriend. I think they'd really like you."

His heart hurt for her. "I know I would have liked them as well."

She looked away, back at the lake. "You know...Easter holidays are coming soon. Do you think...would you go there with me?"

He frowned. "Go where?"

She looked back at him. "To my house. To where my parents died." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I want to go and say goodbye."


	11. Chapter 11

The Easter Holidays came quickly. Ron, after some persuasion from Hermione, decided to go with her plan of visiting her home over the holiday. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to go; more so he was just worried. For one, he was worried that instead of getting some sort of closure, Hermione would just open the wounds back up. She'd come so far since the attack, especially in the last few weeks. He was actually starting to see a bit of the old Hermione come back, and he didn't want her to backtrack. And the other reason he was worried was that somehow, the Death Eaters would be watching, just waiting for Hermione to return. They hadn't planned on her escaping, after all. Perhaps they wanted to finish her off?

But, it seemed really important to Hermione. Ron even wrote to his father to talk to him about it, and they decided they would give it a try, though Arthur insisted on accompanying them just in case, his fears the same as Ron's.

Harry and Ginny both decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday; Ron had a feeling the two of them were looking forward to spending it alone together. Ron really couldn't blame them; it sounded like a good idea to him as well, but he figured he and Hermione would still get to spend some time together. Plus, maybe getting out would be good for them. He could only hope that Hermione found whatever peace she was looking for.

Rather than taking the train, they travelled by Floo powder, leaving out of McGonagall's office. They had said their goodbyes to Harry and Ginny, and Hermione was full of a fierce determination Ron really hadn't seen in a while. Within moments, they left McGonagall's office and found themselves in the Burrow, Ron's mother and father waiting for them.

"Ron!" Molly said happily, pulling him into a hug. "How good it is too see you! Oh, and Hermione dear, you're looking wonderful," she added, turning to Hermione and pulling her into a hug as well. Arthur clapped Ron on the back and nodded to Hermione.

"I hope you're hungry!" Molly said excitedly. "I've been getting dinner ready all day! Fred and George are going to stop in for a few days as well. Hermione, you're free to take Ginny's room."

"Thank you," Hermione said with a smile, and Mrs. Weasley engulfed her into a hug again.

"So tell me," Mrs. Weasley said later that night when they finally all sat down for dinner, Fred and George joining them. "Is it true, what Ginny said? You two-" she pointed between Hermione and Ron "-are dating?"

Ron choked on his chicken and Hermione turned red. "Of course Ginny wouldn't know how to keep her mouth shut," Ron grumbled.

"Yes, we are," Hermione answered, her voice high.

"Well it's not like we're surprised," Fred said as he scooped potatoes on his plate.

"You two have been making eyes at each other since you met," George agreed.

"I don't know about that-" Ron started, but his mother cut him off with her excited clapping.

"I always knew you two would end up together," she said, dabbing her eyes. "I'm happy for you! Another member of the family!"

"They aren't married, mum," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

"I mean, you always have been of course, both you are Harry," Mrs. Weasley told Hermione, ignoring Fred. "And now Ginny and Harry are together! And I trust that you will make smart decisions, I know-"

"Okay, mum!" Ron said, his face burning as Fred and George snickered.

It wasn't until after dinner that Arthur finally pulled Ron and Hermione aside to talk about their plans.

"Alright you two," Arthur said, looking serious as he pulled them away from the others. "We'll be going tomorrow. We'll just apparate there and back. I'd like to make it a quick trip, to be safe. I'm sorry Hermione."

"It's alright," she said with a smile. "I understand."

"Molly isn't too keen on the idea," Arthur added. "But she feels better knowing I'll be there. We'll just have to be alert."

Full from dinner and knowing they needed to get a good nights sleep, Ron and Hermione decided to go to bed early that night. "Are you alright?" Ron asked Hermione as the stopped in front of Ginny's bedroom. He could tell Hermione was nervous.

She nodded. "I will be. I'm nervous about tomorrow. And it feels a little strange, being back here."

Ron hadn't really thought of that. Being back in the Burrow must bring back memories for Hermione of those first few days after she was rescued. "I can sneak you into my room, if you want," Ron suggested. "Mum probably won't even know."

Hermione grinned at that. "Don't underestimate your mother." She leaned in and kissed him. "Ill be okay down here. Goodnight, Ron."

"Goodnight," he said, wishing he didn't have to leave her alone. He waited until she went into the room, and then made his way upstairs to his own room.

….

Hermione was having trouble sleeping.

For one, she felt strangely alone in Ginny's room and Ron felt far away. She realized she really hadn't been alone since her attack; Ginny had been with her before, and at Hogwarts she had the other girls in her dormitory. She really hadn't been alone like this…well, since she'd been in the cellar.

And then she was going to be facing one of her hardest moments tomorrow; saying goodbye to her home, and her parents, and the life she once cherished.

She knew she needed to do it. But it didn't make it easy. She only hoped that once she faced it, once she seen her broken home, that somehow, she'd be able to make peace. She hadn't been back to the home since that night, after all. Facing her home, the place where her parents were killed, would mean facing what had happened that night. And as Harry had told her, she needed to try and face it before she could truly move on.

She finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, only to be woken up a few hours later by Arthur.

"Hermione," he said, knocking on the door. "Are you awake? We need to start getting ready to go."

She groaned in response, and satisfied, she heard Arthur move up the stairs, calling out to Ron. Hermione yawned, wishing she'd gotten better sleep. She looked at herself in the mirror, her hair a mess and her eyes puffy with sleep. She pulled off her nightgown and made sure to change the wrapping she still wore over her stomach.

Madam Pomfrey had stated recently she was worried that the wound was getting bigger. Hermione couldn't deny it. It somehow looked like it was growing, though it didn't really make sense.

She pulled out her bag and found a nice dress she had packed; her mother had bought it for her birthday last year. It was beautiful; it was white and lacy and fit her nicely. Her mother had been so excited to give it to her, and the memory brought a smile to her face. She tamed her hair into a bun on the top of her head. It seemed strange to think she was going to go say goodbye to her parents. Sometimes she forgot that they weren't simply at home, waiting for her to return home for the summer.

She met Ron on the staircase; he too had dressed up a bit, wearing a button up shirt that he actually tucked in. "You look beautiful," he told her when he saw her, and it gave her just enough strength to move forward with what she was about to do. She kissed him, her stomach warming at his touch.

"Thank you for doing this with me," she whispered.

He smiled. "I'd follow you anywhere, Hermione."

The sun was still rising as they made their way out of the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley watching them with a look of worry. Ron still hadn't passed his Apparation exam, so Mr. Weasley had to take him along. Hermione thought of her home and her neighborhood, her heart hurting slightly, and spun on the spot. The next thing she knew, she was standing in the middle of her street, the road empty.

Ron and Arthur appeared next to her. Arthur pulled out his wand, ready in case anyone did show up. Ron took Hermione's hand. "Are you ready?" he asked her. She wanted to say no; her heart was pounding and she was beginning to second guess their trip. But she looked and Ron, and as always, he gave her the sense of calm she needed. She nodded, and together they walked down the street, hand in hand.

Hermione saw her house as they approached, and her heart sank all the way into her stomach. There barely was a house left. The frame of it was still partly there, charred by the flames the Death Eaters had casted. She squeezed Ron's hand as they got closer. It was her house. It was in the right spot, right in between her neighbors. But it didn't look like her house. It was nothing but a skeleton of the home she grew up in. The mailbox still said  _The Grangers_  on it, and she traced the name with her fingers, the only sign that this had once been her family home.

Flashes of that night went through her mind; the Christmas Music playing; the smell of dinner; her parents' laughter; the flashes of green light; her parents falling to the ground; tripping over her mother's dead body before her world went black.

She couldn't stop her tears even if she wanted too. Ron put his arm around her shoulders, pressing his lips on top of her head.

"I loved them so much," she whispered.

"I know," Ron replied. "And so did they."

She nodded. She didn't doubt for a moment that her parents died knowing they were loved.

"I'm glad it was quick," she said, her voice breaking.

"They lived a happy life," Ron told her. "They had you as their daughter, after all. I know they were so proud of you. And they still are."

She nodded, sniffling. She pulled out her wand and conjured a bouquet of white roses. She placed in front of the house, whispering, "I love you, Mum and Dad." She stepped away, and Ron pulled her back into his arms, holding her as she let the tears out. It was a bittersweet release of the pain she'd been holding onto since that night. But she knew Ron was right. Her parents had been happy, and they had lived a life full of love. And there's nothing more you can really ask for in life, than to love and be loved in return.

There was a crack in the air, causing Ron and Hermione both to jump. Ron pulled out his wand, and Hermione's eyes travelled over Ron's shoulder.

A few yards away stood Antonin Dolohov, grinning maliciously.

"Ron! Hermione!" Arthur was there, casting a shield charm as Dolohov fired a curse at them. More cracks were heard all around them. Hermione could not look away from Dolohov, as if she were frozen. Her whole body felt cold and her brain couldn't process what was happening. Dolohov, the one who had killed her parents, the one who had helped Voldemort torture her in the dark, cold cellar, was standing there in front of her. She watched as Dolohov pulled a knife out of his robes, laughing. That same knife that Voldemort had buried in her stomach that night.

Her stomach flared in pain, and she was sure she was going to die. She was going to die, and so was Ron, and so was Arthur and it was all her fault. She hadn't been able to save her parents, she hadn't been able to save herself. And now the boy she loved more than anything was going to die as well, and it was all because of _her_.

She couldn't think or move or breathe. It was just her and Dolohov and that knife, and the pain it had brought her and so many others.

She should have never come back here. She should never have brought Ron and Arthur here with her. Ron had been right all along; the Death Eaters had probably been watching and waiting all this time. Just waiting for her to be stupid enough to return.

_All her fault._

_Perhaps she should have died in the cellar, after all._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about all the double posting of chapters; just trying to catch up yo what I have on FF.net ^^ I hope you enjoy! This chapter was emotional for me to write. :')

They came to a crash landing outside of the Burrow, Arthur's hand squeezing Ron's arm tightly. Ron was dazed for a second his head trying to figure out what had just happened. Everything had happened so quickly. He suddenly remembered Hermione, frozen in terror. Ron crawled on his hands and knees to Hermione's side, Arthur still clutching her arm. Her eyes were open and wide and her whole body was trembling, as if she was stuck in some type of terrible trance. Arthur had apparated them out of there just in time; Ron wasn't even sure of how many Death Eaters had shown up.

"Hermione!" Ron cried desperately, but it was like she could not see or hear him. She was choking on her own breaths as if she could not breathe.

"Dad!"

"We need to get her inside," Arthur said firmly, and pulled Hermione into his arms. Molly came rushing out, looking scared.

"Arthur what happened?" she gasped.

"The Death Eaters were there," he said, as Ron followed them into his house. Arthur laid Hermione on the couch. Fred and George came around, their eyes wide. They pulled Ron out of the way, though Ron tried to force them off.

"Let them help her, Ron!" George said firmly, and the words seemed to snap some sense into him. Ron felt hot tears run down his face as he let Fred and George steer him into a chair.

"What happened?" Fred asked, crouching in front of him.

"The D-Death Eaters were there," Ron managed to say. "Everything was fine, for a little while. But then they showed up. They apparated in all around us, and we were outnumbered." He buried his face in his hands. "I don't know what happened to her," he continued. "When she saw the one, I think it was Dolohov-" Ron stopped, looking up at Fred. "Dolohov was the one who killed her parents."

Fred nodded, looking grim. "She just froze up," Ron finished. "Dad brought us back here."

George went over to the couch to help, but Fred put his hand on Ron's shoulder, keeping him in the chair. Even when Hermione cried out and Molly said "Arthur!" very sharply, Fred made him stay there.

"She's not going to die, is she?" he asked weakly, as George ran off to find something and Hermione cried out again.

Fred looked uncertain and rather scared, but said, "Don't think that way. You have to believe that she'll be okay."

…

The next couple hours would become some of the scariest of Ron Weasley's life, and he hadn't thought things could get any worse than they had over Christmas.

Apparently, the cursed wound on Hermione's stomach had reopened again, spilling blood all over her and Ron's parents as they desperately tried to help her. There was a loud crack outside, and Albus Dumbledore himself swept into the room, looking grim, followed by none other than Severus Snape. Ron stayed to the side with Fred, his tears falling and his heart breaking into a tiny little pieces as Hermione's life seemed to be hanging in the balance. Molly and Arthur stepped away as Dumbledore and Snape examined Hermione, the sound of her ragged breaths piercing Ron's heart over and over. Ron tried not to stare at his parents' bloodied hands.

"She is trapped in her own head," Snape observed. "It's the curse. She'll surely die if we're unable to pull her out of it."

Ron whimpered.

"Go to her," Dumbledore told him. "I'll do what I can to keep her alive on this end."

Ron realized what Snape was going to do. He was going to use Legilimency on her.

….

Hermione was stuck in the world of endless rain, pain, and death.

The rain fell heavily around her drenching her, freezing her. Where she was, she didn't know. The entire world was grey, void of color. She was unable to move, as if frozen in ice. But she was never alone.

Dolohov was there, and so was Bellatrix, and Voldemort.

They killed her parents. Her happy, innocent, loving parents. The worst thing that they had ever done was love a daughter who would some day bring their deaths upon them.

She watched, helplessly, as her mother crumpled in front of her, and then her father. She hadn't reacted. She hadn't protected them. She had failed to save her parents. What kind of daughter just stood there while her parents were killed? And she was forced to again, in this stage nightmarish world, Hermione's deepest fears and regrets catching up to her.

And then her parents were replaced by Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. Always loving, always welcoming. Hermione watched in her frozen state as they too were killed in front of her eyes, green light flashing, her ears filled with the sound of wicked, malicious laughter.

And a voice, that sounded strangely like her own.

_It's all your fault._

And then it was Harry and Ginny, their hands clasped together, sad smiles on their faces.

_They all die for you, and you do nothing to protect them._

The rain poured harder.

Green lights sent Harry and Ginny crashing to the ground, their eyes open and glassy, the smiles wiped off of their faces.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to fight.

_All your fault._

And then Ron was there.

" _Granger!"_

Beautiful, warm, loving Ron. The one who took her pain away. The one who made her feel safe and loved even in the worst of times.

She could remember the smell of him, the feel of his lips against hers.

No, no, no. Not Ron. She couldn't live without Ron.

_They all die for you, and you do nothing._

_You are worthless._

" _Granger! Listen to me!"_

Ron smiled at her, his hand inching towards her, moving to tuck her hair behind her ear like he always did. Such a simple gesture, but one that always made her heart soar.

_THEY DIE_

Hermione could only watch as the boy she loved sucked in a breath, the smile melting off his face. The cursed dagger had been thrown, lodging itself in his stomach. Blood poured, mixing with the rain.

_You don't deserve to live while they die._

Ron's knees gave out and he opened his mouth to speak, but instead more blood poured out.

"Granger!"

She really didn't deserve to live. They had deserved to live, not her. She would give her life a thousand times over if only it meant she could spare their lives.

Severus Snape was there.

Snape?

"Granger, you have to fight it!" he yelled, sounding far away. "It's all in your head! You have to fight it if you want to live!"

But did she want to live?

_All your fault._

Was her life worth living if she caused pain to so many people?

"It's the curse!" Snape's voice said. She couldn't see him anymore, but she could still hear him. "The curse is taking over! If you care about any of these people at all, you'll pick yourself up and FIGHT BACK!"

She did care about them, so much.

But she had only brought them to their deaths.

" _Hermione_!"

Ron's voice.

But Ron was dead.

She loved Ron so much.

She thought of his smile.

" _Come back_."

His voice was small now.

He had once told her that he needed her.

And she knew she needed him.

She thought of the first time they met, on the train to Hogwarts.

She thought of the night in the bathroom, when the troll had almost killed them and they somehow became friends.

She thought of the times they had fought in their third year over Crookshanks; she thought of her heartache after Ron ruined the Yule Ball for her; she thought of standing next to him and Harry in Dumbledores army; she thought of the weekends at Hogwarts, the holidays they spent, every fight, every triumph, every moment that had led them to where they were now.

She loved Ronald Weasley.

That was the only thing her heart was able to hold on to. He was always there to pick her up when she fell. He was there to fight for her when she could not. She loved him even when he drove her crazy, or acted childish, or got angry at was her love for him that had made it possible to come this far.

And sometimes, just sometimes, that love was enough.

The rain stopped. The voices stopped. Hermione stood up, no longer frozen. She saw her mother, and her father. They were standing there, smiling at her, a bright light behind them.

"We love you so much," her mother said, her voice sounding far, far away.

"We are so proud of you, honey," her dad said. She realized they were both crying. "Please, don't blame yourself for what happened."

"We did what we were put on this world to do," her mother said. "We got to be your parents. And you turned out to be a remarkable, beautiful young woman."

"Never throw that away," her father said, and they were fading. "Always fight, Hermione. Fight for what you believe in."

"I love you!" she said, finding her voice at last. "I'll never forget everything you did for me."

They were waving now, fading quickly. "Go back to him," her mother said. "He loves you so much. Never let him go."

And then they were gone.

…..

The room was silent as everyone held their breaths. Ron felt as if he was being suffocated. He had broken out of Fred's grasp and had pushed the others out of his way as he scrambled to Hermione's side. He held her hand in his, but she didn't squeeze it back. She was cold as ice, her beautiful dress covered in blood. Ron felt a mangled sob escape from his throat as he realized that she was not breathing anymore. She was still, her face white as a ghost.

"Hermione please," he begged her. "Please come back. You can't leave me here alone. I told you I couldn't live without you, remember? Hermione?"

"Ron," his mother said, her voice breaking, and she tried to pull him away, but he pushed her off, unable to believe it. There was no way. There was no way that the girl that he loved was dead. He would never accept that. He  _could_  never accept that. His heart could not take that kind of pain.

And then, by some miracle, Hermione gasped.

Ron nearly fainted as Hermione coughed and tried to catch her breath. Her eyelids fluttered, and to Ron's amazement, her eyes found his.

"Hermione?" he asked weakly, afraid to move or think or do anything.

And then she smiled.

"I love you," she said, her voice rough and barely there, but he heard the words all the same.

His heart surely exploded. "I love you too," he replied, before being overcome by his tears as Hermione fell back into unconsciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Thank you so much to all of you who have taken the time out of your day to read this story. I really hope that you have enjoyed it. 
> 
> Special shoutout to ViviTheFolle for all your nice comments <3 I love meeting fellow Ron fans aha! 
> 
> Im hoping to write more on my favorite couple soon <3

"Ron!"

Ginny flew into his arms, nearly tackling him to the ground. Ron hugged his sister tightly. After a moment she pulled away, a sad smile on her face, and went to greet their parents. Harry came up next, and Ron had never been more grateful to see him in his life. Harry hugged Ron as well, and Ron felt the tears he'd been fighting threatening him again.

"I'm so sorry," Harry said as they pulled away. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't here."

"It's alright," Ron replied tiredly. "There's no way we could have known this was going to happen."

"How is she?" Harry asked, looking scared.

"You can come in and see her," Ron said, leading him into his house. The house was packed, or least it felt so. Dumbledore was still there, though Snape had left the moment it was apparent that Hermione was going to live. His parents were of course still there, looking tired but relieved. Fred and George were around, trying their best to lift everyone's spirits. Remus and Tonks had showed up to check up on them once they heard what was going on. McGonagall had been the one to bring Ginny and Harry straight from Hogwarts, but had left once they were there to return to the school.

They still had Hermione camped out on the couch, where they could keep a close eye on her. Molly and Tonks had cleaned her up, changing her out of the bloodied dress and into something more comfortable. But she was still unconscious. However, the color had returned to her face and her body had warmed, giving Ron comfort that she was going to be okay. Molly had covered her in their nicest blankets, and Hermione looked comfortable and peaceful next to the fire.

"She hasn't woken up yet," Ron said as Harry and Ginny nervously went to her side. "But she might not for a while. Things were…they were pretty bad."

Ginny put her arm around him as Ron took a deep breath, trying to keep it together. "She'll be alright, dear," Molly said kindly, patting him on the back. Harry picked up Hermione's hand and held it in both of his, his eyes sad. "Come on, dears," Molly said. "Let her rest. Why don't we all have some tea."

Ron let his mother steer him to the kitchen table, where Arthur, Remus, Tonks and Dumbledore were sitting. Tonks gave Harry and Ginny both a big hug, and Remus stood up.

"We'll be going then," he announced. "You all have had quite the day and could use some rest. Feel free to send for us, if you need anything at all," he added, his eyes falling on Harry and Ron with a kind smile.

They said their goodbyes to Remus and Tonks as Molly sat steaming mugs in front of Ron, Harry and Ginny. She topped off Dumbledore's cup as well, and then asked Arthur if he would come with her to check on Hermione. Arthur, taking the hint, stood up, leaving them alone at the table, with Albus Dumbledore's blue stare.

"I too, shall be leaving," Dumbledore said. "But I thought you three would like an explanation on what happened to your friend." His eyes fell on Ron. Ron did indeed want to understand what had happened, though at the same time, he was exhausted, and wasn't sure if he was ready for the answer.

"When Miss Granger was held captive by the Dark Lord and his followers," Dumbledore started, "she was tortured. This was after watching her parents die senselessly."

"We know this," Ron said loudly.

Dumbledore looked at him a moment, and then continued. "And you also know, that while she was in that cellar, she was stabbed with a very powerful, dark, magical object."

"The dagger," Harry said, and Dumbledore nodded.

"Curses act in terrible ways," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Sometimes, were are unable to stop them, or understand them. Unfortunately, that is what happened with Miss Granger. Not only were we unable to understand the injury and heal it, but we were almost too late." Ron's throat tightened. "The wound on Miss Granger's stomach was indeed a cursed wound. And it was not just a physical curse, but a mental one as well. You see, her mental state and the wound were tied. This is why we could not heal the wound. The pain of losing her parents, as well as the terrible things that happened to her following, left Hermione with a great deal of mental anguish. And, from what I can understand, a lot of guilt over her parents' deaths.

"Unfortunately, even on her better days, the fear and guilt and pain remained in her mind. When she became too overwhelmed, the wound would cause her great pain, if I recall correctly. But unfortunately, mental pain is a lot harder to heal than physical pain. Sometimes, many times, it is never healed at all. Miss Granger was doing her best to go about her day to day life and get back to the way she used to be, but her sorrow, and her guilt never left her. On top of that, she began to feel guilty that she was becoming a bother to those around her."

"Us," Ron said, feeling miserable.

"Yes," Dumbledore said with a nod. "Madam Pomfrey came to me recently and said that she feared the wound was getting worse and not better."

"She never even complained," Ginny said.

"Does that surprise you?" Dumbledore asked. "Especially with her ever growing guilt?"

They shook their heads.

"Today when you went to the home Miss Granger grew up in," Dumbledore said, turning to Ron," you were met by the Death Eaters, who had been waiting for her to return. Perhaps they were hoping she would bring Harry there. Perhaps they just want to finish what they started. Whatever the reason, they came, and Hermione came face to face with-"

"Dolohov," Ron answered.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "The very man who killed her parents. From what Severus and I found, it seems that upon seeing him, Miss Granger believed that he would bring harm to Arthur, and to you." He looked and Ron without blinking. "And her fear and guilt overcame her."

"What did he see?" Ron asked. "Snape? When he was in her head? Did you see it too?"

Dumbledore was quiet a moment. "Somewhat," he admitted. "It was more bits and flashes, as by that point her mind was in a chaotic state. She was seeing the people she loved die. All while telling herself it was her fault."

Ron felt sick. He couldn't imagine how painful it must have been for her.

"How did she come out of it?" Ginny asked. "Because of Snape?"

"Yes, and no," Dumbledore replied. "Severus was able to somewhat wake her up. But from what I understood, it was you." He looked at Ron again, his eyes bright.

"Me?" Ron said weakly.

"Yes," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "She heard you calling to her. She heard you, and she was able to remember that she had something worth living for."

Dumbledore stood up suddenly, making them jump. "I must be going," he said. "I have to return to the school, and I know Miss Granger is in good hands here."

"Why did Snape help?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked surprised. "It isn't as if this is the first time he's helped her. It was Severus, after all, who found out where the Death Eaters were holding her, leading the Order to her rescue."

They all just stared at him. Dumbledore smiled and bowed to them, sweeping out of the room without another word.

….

"Are you going to come up to bed?" Harry asked, the fire burning low, the flame reflecting in Ron's tired eyes.

"I'm alright down here," Ron replied, his back against the couch where Hermione was asleep.

Harry sighed and sat down next to him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ron was quiet for a full minute. "She…she died, Harry," Ron finally answered. "Snape was yelling...and she sounded awful, Harry. So awful, like she couldn't breathe. There was blood everywhere, and then she just…she stopped. She stopped breathing. She was cold, and pale, and I…." Ron shook his head, his eyes shining with tears. "And then she came back. She came back, apparently because I asked her too." Ron hid his face in his hands. "I never thought things could get worse than when she was missing. I thought that was the scariest thing I could imagine. But this was worse, Harry. At least when she was missing I had hope left. But…." Ron just shook his head, unable to continue.

Harry felt his own throat burn and put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "I can't…I can't even imagine how painful it must have been," Harry told him. "But you saved her life, Ron."

"No," Ron said, shaking his head. "It was her. She saved herself. And she saved me, too. Because I don't know if I would have come back from that, Harry."

Just the idea terrified Harry. If Hermione had died and Ron had lost it…Harry wasn't sure if he would have been able to come back, either.

"She's Hermione," Harry said. "She holds us together. We wouldn't be us without her."

Ron looked at him with his watery eyes, and nodded in agreement. "I love her, Harry."

"I know," Harry replied, offering a smile.

Ron sniffed. "I need to stay here with her," he said. "I need to make sure she's still here. Hearing her breaths, it helps. Feeling her hand in mine helps. And I don't know if she knows Im here or not, but I don't want her to ever feel alone. Especially after everything she's been through."

"Okay," Harry replied. "Ill go get us some pillows and blankets then. We'll camp out here."

"You don't have to-" Ron started, but Harry held up his hand.

"Yes, I do."

…..

The first thing Hermione realized was that she was very warm and comfortable. She knew she'd been asleep, and it had been a very deep and dreamless sleep. And no wonder, given how comfortable she was. She also heard some noises, but nothing that was particular. And there was a smell in the air, of some kind of food. It smelled good. It reminded her of her mother.

Her mother. And father.

Maybe she had been dreaming, after all. She suddenly remembered a terrible dream, full of pain and death and loss. But then she had seen her parents, and they had been happy, and safe. And they had loved her.

She wanted to open her eyes, but they felt so heavy. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy, as well.

"Hermione?" An excited squeak from a familiar voice. "Oh my- Ron! Harry! I think she's waking up!"

Moments later, rushed footsteps, and then she heard his voice. "Hermione? Can you hear me? I'm here. I'm here."

His hands, always so warm, found hers, rubbing circles on top.

"Please, Hermione."

She finally opened her eyes. Everything was a blur, but slowly, things started to take shape. There was one thing she was able to make out, and that was the bright orange hair that belonged to the one she loved.

"Ron," she said, her voice sounding awful and rough.

"I'll get mum!" the excited voice said again. It must be Ginny.

"Yes," Ron said, and he sounded awful too. Like maybe he was crying. "Don't try to talk too much."

She blinked again, and his face became a little clearer. She saw another face too, one with glasses.

"Harry," she said.

"Hey," he replied, and he seemed to smile.

"My goodness!" Mrs. Weasley's voice joined them. "Thank heavens, she's finally awake!" Finally? "Here dear, have her drink this, you'll need to help her-"

"Hermione," Ron said, "We're going to sit you up a bit and give you a drink. It will help."

She felt his hand behind her head and a cup coming to her mouth. She did as she was told and drank it. It did help. With a warming sensation she was suddenly able to see much more clearly, and her throat didn't feel so rough. Her fingers and toes started to move again as well, though she still felt extremely drained.

Ron was closest to her; he really did have tears in his eyes. Harry and Mrs. Weasley were behind him, and Ginny stood in the back. She tried to smile at them, and they all returned it, Ron pulling her into a hug, practically dissolving into tears.

"Ron," she said, surprised.

"I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "You have no idea how happy I am right now."

She lifted her hand to his face, despite the effort it took. He took her hand in his and kissed it.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked.

"Almost a week," Mrs. Weasley replied.

"A week?" Hermione repeated, startled. "What? What happened? Was it the Death Eaters? I remember them showing up, but…everything is confusing after that…"

Harry and Ron looked at one another. "It doesn't matter right now," Ron said, looking back at her. "We''ll talk about it later. All that matters is that your safe, and you're going to be okay. And I love you, Hermione Granger."

She couldn't help but feel an embarrassed pleasure. They'd never said those words out loud, at least, not that she remembered.

"I love you too," she replied, and she meant it. Ron grinned, as did Harry and Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley dabbed her eyes with her apron. Ron put his head down, holding her hand tightly, as Hermione tried to understand what had caused him to be so overcome with emotion.

…..

Hermione looked out across the Hogwarts grounds, the summer air warm. She was in one of the tallest towers in the castle. She came up here often, as she found herself able to think, away from the crowds of students. Her sixth year at Hogwarts was ending, and what a year it had been. Hermione Granger had barely escaped her death twice, and had also found the love of her life. Well, she didn't really find him as much as come to the realization that he  _was_  the love of her life. She had known it in her heart all along. Sometimes, it just took nearly dying to realize it.

Her things were packed and ready to go home for the summer. Home, meaning the Burrow, of course.

A lot had happened that year. She's lost her parents. She'd nearly lost herself. Coming back from that had been difficult, and not just on her. But things had gotten better. At the very least, she had realized that what happened to her parents wasn't her fault. She knew they'd always be with her, no matter what. She would always love them, and she'd always work to make them proud. She wouldn't let their deaths be in vain.

"Hey." Ron came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss into her neck. "You okay?"

"Mm-Hm," she replied, closing her eyes. And she was okay. Her head was clear. She was able to sleep better at night. And the mark on her stomach had become a scar, one that would never leave her, unfortunately. It would always remain, a reminder of what she had lived through. But it no longer pained her.

"What are you thinking about?" Ron asked.

"Everything," Hermione said with a sigh. She was worried. Harry was going with Dumbledore to find a Horcrux tonight, and they weren't sure what was going to happen.

"Hey," he said, turning her around to look at him. "It's going to be okay."

"How do you know?" she asked him, her voice a whisper.

"Because I have you," he replied, putting his forehead against hers. "And as long as I have you, I know I can make it through whatever happens."

She smiled and kissed him, forgetting her worries and her doubts for just a few moments. She kissed the boy she loved, and she knew he was right. After all, they had already been to hell and back together, and yet there they stood, ready to take on whatever fight they were faced with next.

Because Hermione Granger loved Ronald Weasley, and sometimes, just sometimes, love was enough to pull you through even the darkest of times.


End file.
